


We've Both Changed

by GreenRogue



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bad Parent John Winchester, Dean Winchester left, Dirty Talk, Dubious Consent, F/M, John Winchester Being an Asshole, M/M, Multi, POV Dean Winchester, POV Sam Winchester, Physical Abuse, Post-Season/Series 01 AU, Psychological Torture, Sam Winchester Does Not Go to Stanford, Sam Winchester Whump, Sam Winchester is Not Okay, Sam Winchester's Demonic Powers, Threesome - F/M/M, Torture, Vaginal Sex, f/m - Freeform, figuring it out as I go, more tags to come
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-23
Updated: 2020-02-12
Packaged: 2020-10-01 17:51:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 12
Words: 35,905
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20356603
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GreenRogue/pseuds/GreenRogue
Summary: One small decision can break up reality into a multiple different facets of a whole. One small difference can change the course of everything. Dean makes a different decision on that night at Sonny's farm, he watches his Dad drive away in the Impala with Sam. Watches as he breathes a sigh of relief of finally being free from the Hunters life. But nothing ever stays away in any lifetime. It's been years but a sudden letter pulls Dean back in. Pulls him back into the life he fought to leave and now he has to save his brother, if there's even anything left to save.**AU reality based off of the episode Bad Boys 9x07, what would happen if Dean decided to stay?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Second fic in the SPN realm. I love my boys but also always want to explore new ways to torment them. 
> 
> As always I do not own any of the characters or the world, this is written for pure enjoyment
> 
> **I will be exploring some smut here, will provide appropriate tags once they come up, this is more coming to me as it comes so probably won't be updated quite as quickly as my last story but I promise this will get finished, I already know what I want just gotta get it down.

* * *

“Oh, look at you. You clean up good!”

“Thank you. You know uh—I’ve never actually been to one of these school dances before”. Dean looked down at his shoes for a moment, feeling a little self-conscious of the get up he was in. Button downs and ties were never really his thing before. But he’d do anything to impress Robin. Dean looked back to Sonny, a man he had grown to trust and almost love in a way.

“Yeah look, about that, Dean, your old man’s outside—I tried to tell him what a big night it was for you. I asked if he could come back later, but he just said to tell you he had a job, said you’d know what that means.” Dean tried to swallow back the sudden burning feeling in his throat. It was happening again, again his dad was expecting him to just pick up whatever little life he established for himself and move on like it was nothing. He looked around the room for a moment, trying to school his face, he spotted the picture of him and Robin, their smiling faces glowing in the afternoon sunlight. It just wasn’t fair. After a moment Sonny started talking to him gently.

“You know, after I got out of jail, this place gave me a second chance. I think it’s done the same for you too.” Dean can barely hold it together and just nods, waiting for the dismissal he knows is coming. “So if you want, I’ll stick my neck out for you, and I’ll fight for you to stay”. Dean can almost feel the whiplash as he looks up at Sonny speechless. In all his life, no one had ever given him the option, a choice. He blinked hard a few times, overcome with a sudden wave of affection for the man in front of him. He tries to smile but winces slightly at the car horn they both hear outside. Dean shakes his head a moment, bitterness creeping in on him and he moves to the window. Peeling back the old curtain, he spied the impala. It’s black, sleek body glinting from the house lights. He can see the back of his father’s head, his fingers drumming against the steering wheel impatiently.

He can’t see Sammy, probably asleep in the backseat. All Dean can see is his father, the car, and the looming loneliness it represents. In that moment, he’s glad he can’t see Sam, glad he can’t see his brother’s innocent face and the strong sense of duty he always feels when he looks at his brother. He knows his brother needs him, hell without him Sam would be alone more than ever. But inside Dean can’t deny the selfish want that’s growing inside of him. Can’t deny that this, this right here is everything he’s ever wanted for himself. He can’t stand the moving around, the worry, the hunting—he can’t stand the life staring right back at him if he gets in that car. Dean lowers the curtain and stands still for a moment in the quiet, he can feel Sonny staring at him. The man has had the patience of a saint and welcomed him into this home with open arms and no judgement. Dean looks back at him, Sonny’s face is carefully blank as he watches the young boy. No pressure, no nudging, just an open welcome if he accepts it. Dean thinks about Sam again briefly before shaking his head. No this isn’t about his brother, this is about him and dammit it’s time he thought for himself.

“How do I stay?”

~~ 11 years later ~~

Dean moans as the alarm clock next to his bed goes off for the third time that morning. There were not enough snooze buttons in the world at the moment and all he wanted to do was roll over and fall back asleep. However the smell of bacon and coffee stirred his empty stomach, and finally he sat up in bed with a loud yawn.

“Bout time you woke up, I was about to come in here and force feed you this”. The lilting woman’s voice made Dean smile as he looked sleepily up at Robin. She was standing in the doorway of their bedroom, a mug of coffee in her hand. She was already dressed to work at the diner, her hair up in a messy ponytail. “Come on sleepy head, you’ve got work and so do I”. She came into the room fully and put the mug down on the bed stand. Dean smiled again and snaked his arms around her waist before she could walk away.

“We could always just play hookie, ya know, take a day, go drive somewhere, anywhere. He nuzzled against her belly breathing in her scent. She smiled and reached down to rake her fingers through his short bed head hair before planting a kiss on his temple.

“No can do cowboy, you have to get to the ranch today remember? You were going to show the boys how to change oil on a car, and I have to get to the diner to help my Dad then get to that photoshoot. Now come on, drink your coffee and get in the shower.” She pulled away from his grasp and Dean groaned lightly before stretching.

“Fine, fine I’m up. But hey--”. He waited until she turned around and he flashed her a devilish smile, “Raincheck”. She smiled back then was gone. Dean sipped at his coffee for a few minutes, working out the kinks in his back. Grabbing his phone, he checked for any overnight messages before making his way to the bathroom. Morning routine aside, Dean had an odd feeling in the pit of his stomach ever since he woke up. Something about today felt off, an uneasiness started to settle in his mind as he turned on the water for a quick shower. He had had these feelings in the past, just slight uneasiness, something that put him on edge. He never knew what caused these moods, sometimes they’d last for hours, sometimes there were gone in a few moments.

Hoping for a quick turnaround, Dean tried to ignore it as he climbed into the shower. Groaning at the hot water, he quickly washed himself while thinking about the day ahead. It was his weekly trip up to the farm today, Sonny needed him to do some work on the cars out there, and he knew the boys always enjoyed it when he came to visit. After randomly listing the rest of his errands, Dean could feel the dark cloud dissipate and he sighed in relief. ‘_Must have just been the burrito I ate last night, or the horror marathon—‘._ Turning the water off and shaking his head to throw off the excess water, he was just stepping out as he heard Robin call to him.

“Breakfast is in the oven, See you tonight for dinner!” Alone in the house, Dean puttered about for a bit. Getting a little exercise in, reading up on the local paper, in moments like this he felt so domestic. A far cry from what he was when he was younger. A few old habits still kicked around from his time with his family, he still kept a loaded shot gun in the closet, still memorized the ways to kill the most prominent baddies that might show up one day; but mostly he was Dean. Simple, local mechanic with a closed past, just like all of Sonny’s boys. No one bothered him, he hadn’t thought about things that go bump in the night in some time. He was happy, it wasn’t perfect by any stretch of the mind, but he was good. He would be lying though if he said he never missed it. Sighing into his empty mug, Dean resigned himself to start the day. Leaving the dirty dishes next to the sink, he grabbed his keys and jacket before pulling their apartment door closed behind him.

* * *

“Hey Martin, how many times have I told you? Chores first then you can go to town.” Sonny lightly scolded the young boy in front of him. The kid had a guilty look in his eye and bit his lower lip in nervousness.

“Sorry Sonny”. The man watched as the kid took the pilfered bike back to the barn and shook his head in fondness. Reaching into the mailbox he squinted as a familiar red pickup truck started making its way down the winding driveway. The man felt himself smile as he shielded his eyes from the sun, the truck rumbled closer and he could faintly hear the tunes of Kansas over the engine’s roar. The younger man was bobbing his head along to the tune, his lips mouthing the words as he parked up on the dry grass.

“Dee-dawg!” Sonny bellowed with a laugh, watching the kid do an air riff before shutting off the engine.

“Sonny! How my favorite old guy?” Dean smiled as he walked around the bed of the truck, grabbing his tools. Sonny smiled and clapped him on the back of the head.

“Better now that you’re hear, man that tractor is on its last legs I’m telling ya. Don’t know if it’s worth fixin’ at this point”. Dean gave him a look and shrugged his shoulders.

“Nah—it’ll be an easy fix like always, just let Dee-dawg take care of it. And don’t forget, I need my—“

“Pie payment yeah, yeah I got you son”. Sonny laughed as he started walking back up to the house. Dean’s voice started singing behind him

“Carry on my wayward son—“ Setting the mail down for the moment, Sonny made his way into the kitchen, his other boys just finishing the dishes and sweeping as he came in.

“Alright listen up guys, Dean’s here. He’s gotta fix the tractor but when he’s done he’s gonna show you guys some mechanical work. You all remember the rules?” Random head nods and “yes’s” echoed around and Sonny smiled. “Good lads, I’ll be in the office”. Before he left, he swiped another cup of coffee and grabbed the stack of mail. With any luck he’d have a light load today and be able to hang with Dean before he left. Settling behind his desk, mail temporarily forgotten, Sonny booted up the old computer and set to work.

* * *

It was well past lunch by the time Dean came sauntering into Sonny’s office, two plates with burgers and fries in his hands with a pair of beers.

“Ya know all work and no play makes Sonny a very old man”. Sonny rubbed at his eyes before glancing at the clock on his desk.

“Jesus”. Dean placed the plate of food on his desk with a smirk.

“Yep”. (popping the “P” slightly) “You’ve really become a desk jockey in your old age.” Sonny just shook his head with a smile and thanked Dean for the burger, and the beer. They tucked into their lunches, a peaceful silence around them. Dean had his feet propped up on the corner of Sonny’s desk. It didn’t seem to matter how many times he was reminded tables weren’t footstools, they were always back to Dean “forgetting” and Sonny just letting it go. Taking a swig from the beer, Sonny eyed the mail stack from this morning and casually flipped a few of the envelopes back before taking a heavy swallow.

“Well fuck me”. Dean perked up, staring at Sonny then at the mail in his hand. Taking another bite of his burger, Dean lifted an eyebrow curiously.

“What’s up? Finally win the lottery or something?” Sonny didn’t say anything, just kept staring at the envelope. It was thick, a pale creamy color. Definitely nothing a debt collector or credit card scam would use. Dean swallowed heavily as Sonny sat silently. “Sonny, what’s a matter?” The man briefly looked at him, his eyes shielded with an emotion Dean didn’t like. He sat forward, his food and beer forgotten on his lap. Sonny cleared his throat and fingered the envelope before handing it to Dean.

“It’s uh—it’s for you”. Now more confused than ever, Dean wiped the grease from his fingers before grabbing the envelope. In the upper corner he could see a stamped return address:

_Law offices of Stein and Martin_  
PO Box 4587  
Lawrence, KS 66044

Dean felt his mouth dry out, god, when was the last time he even thought about Lawrence? About home? Fingers slightly trembling, he turned the envelope over and tore at the flap. A fairly thick packet of paper fell out, along with a second envelope, this one smaller and more worn. Like it had been written ages ago. On the front of this envelope was just his name, almost forgotten and yet so familiar rough scrawled handwriting. ‘_Dad’._

Ignoring the pain that was starting to build in his chest, Dean opened the packet of papers first, Sonny watching him silently as he sipped his beer.

_Dear Mr. Winchester,_

_We regret to be the ones to inform you of your father’s passing. More details have been provided in the included death certificate as well as a copy of the police report. Mr. Winchester Sr. was a long standing client of ours and we here at Stein and Martin wish to extend our most sincere condolences. Included, you will find a copy of your father’s last will and testament. The items left to you in your father’s will have been placed into a security lockbox at the Lawrence Community bank. In the event the items are not claimed 30 days from the date on this letter, they will be returned to the state for liquidation and sale. All proceeds will sent to the second beneficiary, a Robert Singer._

_If there are any questions regarding these proceeds please feel free—_

Dean couldn’t read anymore, at some point his eyes started to burn and he could feel Sonny next to him lightly rubbing his back. He clenched his eyes shut, ignoring the few tears that had escaped and landed on his hands. He took a deep shuddering breath before handing the letter over to Sonny to read. Slowly he turned his attention to the police report that was included. Attached to the report was a post-it note with a quick scrawled handwriting:

_Dean- I know what your family does, I know your dad would have wanted you to know_

Glancing at the report, Dean could see the police had ruled it a suspicious death but no other details were included. The autopsy was sparse, almost ridiculously so and Dean could feel old instincts start to rise at the lack of detail. He heard Sonny scoff next to him and turned to see the man peering over his shoulder.

“Some police work in that Lawrence, this looks like a hide it under the bed and don’t talk about it kinda deal”. Dean nodded along, his mind already moving along to the – his fathers will. It was short and to the point, for that Dean was grateful. He couldn’t help the small smile when he saw the title to the Impala. There were a few addresses down with keypad pass-codes, Dean would have to think about those later. The rest of the details were nothing for him to think about, a few random items to a distant cousin, a collectible gun to Bobby—“_Where is Sam?”_ A sudden new fear started to claw at his chest and he glanced down at the last item in his other hand, the little envelope with his father’s handwriting.

Sonny softly placed his hand on Dean’s shoulder, the man could feel the light tremors running through the kid’s body and Sonny didn’t know what to say. He remembers the one and only time the kid opened up about his Dad, he clearly had been devoted to the man, loved him dearly. But Sonny also knew about the dark parts, the resentment and almost downright hatred of the path he tried to be forced down. Dean dropped the other papers back on the man’s desk and with trembling fingers started to open the other envelope.

“Want me to stay?” Dean startled slightly and looked up at his surrogate father. Sonny looked into his eyes and saw the frightened sixteen year old kid staring back at him once again as Dean nodded. Squeezing his shoulder for comfort, Sonny nodded and stayed by his side as Dean opened the envelope and pulled out the old paper. He took a shuddering breath as he gently unfolded it, afraid of the words inside.

_Dean-_

_If you’re ready this I’m dead. Either the demon got me or old age, I’m hoping for the later. I’m hoping you’ll never see this letter and that I find the sonofabitch and kill it and we can be a family again. I know I wasn’t the best father but I tried. I tried so hard to do right by you and your brother. I am sorry Dean, I never wanted this kind of life for you. Maybe that farm is the best place for you, maybe the best thing for you was to get away and boy I hope you stayed out. I hope you get to have that life I wanted for you with school, and sports, and a girl to call your own. I wanted you and Sammy out so badly, but we had a score to settle, our family against the world. It may have been unfair to force you into it, but I wasn’t going to leave you or your brother behind and lose you two. You were all I had left of your mother and call it selfish but I wasn’t about to let that go._

_I am sorry to do this Dean, I know you got out and I wish you could stay out but I need you back son. I need you to come back, come back and find Sam. I need you to man up and find your brother and take care of him. Because if you truly are reading this then the demon got one over on me. And if the demon got me, then it will get your brother. You can’t let it get your brother Dean. There are things I couldn’t tell you, things I don’t even want to write down but you have to know. I can’t leave it here, here is too open. You’ll get the Impala, naturally, all I ever wanted was to be able to teach you how to take care of her. Now’s your chance. In the car you’ll find my gear. You’ll find more answers there. Just please son, find Sam. Remember rule number one, always take care of Sam. And take care of yourself._

_-John_

_p.s._

_I was proud of you when you won that state championship in senior year._

Dean couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t see. His eyes watered and his throat hurt and vaguely he could hear Sonny next to him shushing him quietly. It caught up slowly that Dean was crying, loud ugly sobs as he thought about the letter he was grasping tightly in his hands. Sonny’s warm body was leaning against his side, the man’s arms holding Dean’s shoulders as he rocked him gently. Dean felt safe and he leaned into Sonny’s arm, hugging it close to his face as he cried.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One small decision can break up reality into a multiple different facets of a whole. One small difference can change the course of everything. Dean makes a different decision on that night at Sonny's farm, he watches his Dad drive away in the Impala with Sam. Watches as he breathes a sigh of relief of finally being free from the Hunters life. But nothing ever stays away in any lifetime. It's been years but a sudden letter pulls Dean back in. Pulls him back into the life he fought to leave and now he has to save his brother, if there's even anything left to save.
> 
> **AU reality based off of the episode Bad Boys 9x07, what would happen if Dean decided to stay?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always I do not own any of the characters or the world, this is written for pure enjoyment
> 
> **I will be exploring some smut here, will provide appropriate tags once they come up, this is more coming to me as it comes so probably won't be updated quite as quickly as my last story but I promise this will get finished, I already know what I want just gotta get it down.
> 
> ***We've got a sex scene here people. It's my first in a REALLY long time. comments appreciated if it made sense?

* * *

~~ _10 years ago ~~_

“Dad—Where’s Dean?” Sam sat in the backseat of the Impala, the toy plane laying forgotten in his lap. His eyes were staring out the passenger window blankly and John only spared him a glance through the rearview mirror before taking a swig from the paper covered whiskey bottle.

“I told you Sam, he’s gone”. The bitterness in his voice felt sour in his mouth and he took another, longer, drink.

“Yeah but—why?” That was the question of the hour wasn’t it. John scoffed as he continued to drive down the dark country road. The music played softly in the background as he cocked back the liquor in his hand. His eyesight was starting to get a little fuzzy and he knew he was going to have to pull over soon. Why had his oldest son abandoned him?

’_Perhaps it was better this way, no kid should be forced into this. If it wasn’t for that stupid monster—demon—if only his Mary—‘_ Shaking his head violently he ignored his youngest son, too aggravated to answer the recurring question over and over again. Trying to take another swig of his drink, he growled when he realized the bottle was empty. Throwing it in the passenger foot well, he gripped the stirring wheel tightly. The all too familiar heat of anger worming its way from his gut to his head. His vision was getting shakier and he had to blink hard to clear it, yep definitely time to pull over.

“We’re stopping soon Sam.” He didn’t hear a response at first and thought his youngest had fallen asleep. A second glance in the mirror and John was shaking his head. “What’re you cryin’ for Sam?” The young boy sniffled and rubbed his nose with his sleeve and just shook his head. John rolled his eyes and growling in frustration.

“Look Dean is gone now and you’ll just have to get used to it. You’re a big kid now Sam, cryin’ isn’t gonna solve anything. It just makes you look weak and you know what we do to weakness don’t you?” He watched as Sam nodded quietly. He thought the subject was dropped and he relaxed minutely until a quiet voice spoke back up.

“I just wanted to wish him a happy birthday.” A red alcoholic haze overtook his senses and John yanked on the wheel hard, spinning the Impala onto the dirt shoulder. He heard Sam shout and fall to the other side of the car, the sound of plastic snapping rang out and he stormed out of the car. He paced a moment along the side of the road, trying to calm his raging anger. The boy had left, the boy had left John with all the responsibility of avenging his family and taking care of the youngest, the one who caused this—the reason his Mary—

“Daddy?” He glowered at the small frame that was standing in front of the headlights. His frame blacked out, looking almost evil—demonic against the dark night. John stalked back up to Sam and gripped his arm tightly, ignoring the hiss of pain from the boy.

“Listen you little shit. Dean is gone and he isn’t coming back. Do you want to know why? Because of you, because if this fucked up life you put us in. Do you understand? Dean left, Because.Of.You. You don’t get to wish him happy birthdays, or Merry Christmas’s. You’ll never see or speak to him again because I have to keep him safe from this life, safe from you. If I ever hear you say the word brother, or his name again it will be the last thing you say. He is not your brother, I am not your father. I am Sir to you, you got it? You lost me the two most important things in my life and if I didn’t think you’d be useful in this I’d have put a bullet in your brain ages ago. Now I want you to shut up and get back in the car. We’re stopping for the night and when we do, we’re going to have a very long talk about what you are.” He shoved the shaking form from his grasp with disgust and barely acknowledged the force in which he hit the car. The boy—no—demon in front of him was shaking like a leaf and trying to slow its breathing as it slowly made its way back around the car and into the backseat. John took a deep breath for a moment, awash in clarity at this new situation he was in. He looked down at the broken toy plane, the one he bought Sam—_the demon_—a week after Dean had left. Using the last burst of anger, he stomped on the stupid thing, hard. He felt the satisfying crunch as the body collapsed under his foot.

A new sense of calm and purpose overtook him and he got back in the car. Turning the Impale back to the road he felt his mind clearing from the alcohol haze. A new sense of understanding cleared his thoughts and he turned the music up to drown out the soft sobs he could still hear from the monster in his backseat. A new plan was starting to formulate in his mind, the demon that killed his wife wanted this thing in his backseat for something. He’d find out what, one way or another.

* * *

~~ _Current Day ~~_

“I still think I could go with you, you shouldn’t do something like this on your own.” Dean smiled affectionately at Robin as he packed a few more items in his duffle. His eyes still felt puffy and itchy from his last bout of crying when he told her what happened. Explained the letter, the will—and his need to go to Kansas for closure.

“I know babe, but this is something I gotta do on my own. Call it a final closure to my past, or some other girly thing.” Robin just snorted and rolled her eyes. Taking a sip from the beer in her hand she watched him make a final check in his head before nodding and zipping up the bag. He took a couple of steps towards her and rans his hands down her arms. “I promise it won’t be more than a couple of days, just a few days to pack up what’s important, see if I can find my brother and make sure he knows, then I’m right back. Promise.” She seemed to eye him with suspicion before huffing and giving him a quick kiss on the lips.

“Alright—alright I give, but you better let me know when you get there. And call me at least once a day so I know you’re safe.” Dean snorted and pulled her into a hug.

“You make it seem like I’m going into another country or something. It’s just Kansas.” She pulled back and swatted at his chest, a slight glower in her face.

“You never know what can happen, there are crazy people out there Dean, someone could-- I don’t know—force you to carry drugs or something.” Dean smiled at her affectionately and cupped her cheek tenderly.

“I’ll be safe—I promise.” He leaned down to give her a quick kiss, her mouth was soft and warm and Dean couldn’t resist running his tongue over her bottom lip. She moaned lightly and opened for him, Dean took quick advantage and slipped his tongue in and reveled in the taste of beer, lip gloss, and just-- Robin.

Deepening the kiss he smoothly grabbed the bottle of beer before she dropped it and led her over to the bed. He could feel her skin quiver under his fingers and he smiled against her mouth before running kisses down the curve of her jaw to her neck, while slowly lowering her onto the bed. He leaned over her for a moment, taking in her flushed face and heaving breasts. Shifting his weight, Dean ran his fingers feather light over her stomach and up her ribcage until it rested on her breast. Robin’s breath hitched in her throat as he lightly rubbed his palm over her shirt, his thumb rubbing over her nipple. She bit her bottom lip and arched up into his touch and Dean moaned low in his throat.

“C’mon baby, I’m cashing in that raincheck from this morning. Give you something to remember me by until I’m back.” Robin reached forward and pulled Dean down by the collar of his shirt, smashing their mouths together almost desperately. As their mouths fought together, Dean reached down and unbuttoned her jeans. Planting his feet next to the bed, he leaned back and chuckled at her whimper. “Easy baby, we got time.” Slowly he pulled her pants off until they fell to the floor, he stared at her red panties, noticing the already wet patch between her thighs. Dean licked his lips as he ran his hands up and down her thighs, slowly encouraging her to spread wider as he kneeled on the floor in front of her.

“Already so wet for me baby, I’m gonna enjoy this—gonna make you enjoy this. Oh god, Robin, you have no idea what you do to me.” Dean leaned forward and ran his nose over the damp spot and left her thighs quiver and she whimpered again, she tried to raise her hips to chase his touch but Dean held her firm on the bed. He leaned back in and pressed his lips to her panties, her scent overpowering his senses and he placed his tongue firmly on her cotton covered crotch. She spasmed beneath him as he lowered his lips and blew hot air onto her clit. She moaned again and Dean felt her blunt nails dig into his hair. He took a few moments just blowing and lightly pushing over her underwear. Her thighs were quivering harder and Dean could feel her trying to push against his grip.

After a few more breathes, Dean hooked her panties from underneath her and pulled them off quickly while raising her legs above his head. He gently guided them over his shoulders as he shuffled up onto the bed, lifting her hips with his movement. He could see Robin below him, her face flush with want—eyes wide with lust. She stared at him silently begging for the teasing to stop. He just smiled as he lowered his lips to her shaking body. As soon as his lips enclosed her clit she let out a half whine followed by a moan and he sucked hard and long. She had reached above her and twisted her hands in the sheets, her eyes closed as he sucked and licked against her. His hands spanned up her body under her rucked up t-shirt until he felt her lace encased breasts and he squeezed them roughly.

“Oh god, oh, Dean, just like th—that—please don’t stop--- nuhh”. She was lost under him and Dean reveled in the power he held over her for a minute, pulling back and lightly teasing the sensitive nub with the tip of his tongue. His hands had pushed her bra up her chest so he could reach her peaked nipples, twisting them both in his fingers. She bucked against him, trying to get more friction against his tongue and he smiled. Pulling back all the way, he lowered her legs until they were on either side of his hips. Wetting his fingers quickly he reached down to run a long digit over her opening and she bit her lip again watching him, a desperate plea in her eyes. Slowly he ran his finger over her clit before finding her entrance and easily slid inside. She closed her eyes with a desperate gasp as he moved his finger in and out of her wet pussy. Dean could feel his own erection pushing painfully against his zipper and he fought to keep control. Using another finger he reached up into her, searching out that magical bundle of nerves. When her back arched off of the bed, they groan in unison and Dean could barely keep it together. Unbuttoning his own pants as he rubbed against her, Dean pulled his throbbing dick out and gave it a few slow pulls.

“God baby, you are so sexy like this. I’m gonna fuck you hard, make you cum on my dick. Make sure you feel it for days until I get back.” She mewled at his words, pushing her hips back against his rough fingers and Dean could feel himself come undone. Releasing her and himself she huffed in impatience while he grabbed a condom from the table next to the bed. Opening it quickly, Robin laughed at him a little as he fumbled and Dean smiled at her.

Once gloved, Dean took his cock in hand and snaked up her body while aligning his dick with her wet entrance. He probed lightly against her lips, he could feel the skin shaking beneath him and he looked into her eyes. She stared at him with love and impatience and Dean leaned down to kiss her as he entered her in one quick push. They both gasped into each other’s mouths and Robin canted her hips up, urging him to set a quick pace.

“Please Dean, oh baby please I need you”. Dean moaned against her throat and started to slid in and out, pushing into her deeply causing the bedframe to groan. Her tight channel clenched around him as he set a fast rhythm, he could feel sweat starting to bead on his forehead and he bent slightly in half to reach her breasts with is mouth. Taking a nipple between his teeth, he teased her sensitive skin with his tongue while gasping against her skin. Robin’s fingers were back in his hair as she held him impossibly close, little moans and gasps escaping past her lips. She started to push back against his thrusts, clenching her thighs against his hips. Her breath’s started coming faster and Dean could feel the tension building under her skin. He pulled back from her abused nipple to reach a hand down between them and rub against her clit.

“Come on baby, cum for me. Let me feel you on my dick, let me hear you.” His rough voice seemed to push her over and her movements stuttered out as she threw her head back, a long loud moan echoed in their bedroom and as she held him, nails scrapping against his shoulders, Dean felt his own balls tighten and lights exploded behind his eyes. His hips faltered as his muscles seized, he felt Robin run her hands over his chest encouraging his release.

As he came down from his high, he stared at the woman below him. Love and tenderness were in her eyes and Dean smiled at her exhausted. He gave her a playful kiss on her inner thigh before peeling away to dispose of the used condom. By the time he returned to the bedroom, Robin had already fixed her mussed hair and her bra and t-shirt were back in place. She was seated on the bed, a sheet draped loosely around her hips. She looked at him warmly and Dean couldn’t stop the puff of pride at the dreamy (_well-fucked)_ look on her face. She must have seen him stroking his own ego and laughed at him lightly.

“Easy Tiger, you still owe me a round two when you get back—just don’t take too long.” Dean could still see the slight worry in her eyes and he softened.

“I promise Robin, it won’t be long and I’ll be fine—besides what’s the worst that could happen?”

* * *

_‘I am never riding in another bus for as long as I live.’_ Dean groaned as he exited the greyhound station in Lawrence as the sun was setting. It had taken over 24 hours for him to get here, and that didn’t include the 4 hour layover in Indianapolis. His back was killing him and was starting to understand why some people developed a germaphobe issue. Humans were really disgusting when forced in close quarters for longer than a few hours. Shaking off the willies, Dean grabbed his bag from the curb and started to walk towards downtown. His first stop was to the bank which if memory served correctly wasn’t far. His legs could do with a stretch and the fresh air would do him some good.

People milled around him as Dean made his way down the sidewalk. Their lively chattered a happy distraction from his ever darkening musings. Ever since he read that letter from his father, Dean could feel a cloud slowly settle over his soul. Lingering thoughts of demons, and danger started to grate against his fairly peaceful existence and not for the first time, Dean began to doubt his choices when he was a kid. Would his Dad have died if he stayed? Would it have even come to this if he just did what he was told? What about Sam? Why wasn’t he with dad, or was he and why didn’t he tell Dean? It was a pile of shit and Dean didn’t like how it stank. Something was wrong and his long dormant big brother instincts started to work into overdrive as he grew closer and closer to his hometown.

Now that he was here however, Dean couldn’t help but doubt whether or not Sam wanted to see him. Maybe he blamed him for not coming back-_ ‘I wouldn’t blame him’- _maybe Sam didn’t want anything to do with him as he was left behind. For the hundredth time Dean silently berated himself for not thinking of Sam that night, for not thinking ahead at what it would do to his younger brother. But it was too late to change his choices, Dean shoved down his thoughts once more, promising himself a long night at the bar once he took care of these legalities.

The bank loomed in the distance and Dean crossed the street at a jog just as the closed/open sign was flipped. The old security guard behind the glass door gave him a small wave and pointed at his watch.

“Aw c’mon man, I just rode here from New York. I’m Dean Winchester, Just trying to clear out the box under my father John?” The man seemed to hesitate a moment, a flash of recognition in his eyes before he reopened the door and stepped out.

“Dean? Dean Winchester is that really you?” He felt nervous for a moment and Dean licked his lips before shrugging.

“Uhh—yeah?”

“Oh my boy! Look at you, how you’ve grown!” The old man clapped him on the shoulder and escorted him into the bank with a smile. “I haven’t seen you since you were just a little boy, how’s your father? How’s Sam?”

‘_Just great—‘ _Dean smiled nervously as he fished out the paperwork from the law office and cleared his throat.

“Uh—actually Dad passed, I’m uh—I’m here to clean out a few items that were left.” The man’s face seemed to fall and Dean prepared for the onslaught of condolences, he was surprised however when the man merely shook his head and led him to the vault.

“John always did play life recklessly. Here, let’s get you your things and get you out of here.” Dean raised an eyebrow at the retreating form before rushing to catch up.

“You must have really known my dad huh?” The guard grunted in the affirmative as he entered a code and the vault door swung open.

“Yeah—me and your father go way back. We were in the marines together for a short time. Then when I was released we—hunted—“ The old man gave Dean a sideways glance and Dean felt a grimace of a smile before nodding. The man returned his nod and waved him ahead into the vault.

“When we heard what happened, a lot in the community got scared. We never thought anything would take down John Winchester. Do—do you know what happened?” Dean could hear the trepidation in the man’s voice and Dean could practically feel the fear rolling off of the man. He sighed as he scanned the deposit boxes in front of him before finding the one mentioned in the will. He grabbed the metal box without speaking and placed it on the table in the middle of the room. Checking the code again, he entered the password on the box and let go of the breath he didn’t realize he was holding when he heard it click. Dean hesitated a moment before opening it.

“He was tracking a demon—the one that killed my mother—in his letter he says—he says it was the demon that got ‘im.” The man didn’t respond and Dean slowly opened the box to reveal its contents. It took a moment for his mind to understand the pictures in front of him. There’s one of just him and his mom and Dean’s throat constricts for a moment. The color had faded from age and he picked it up gingerly, rubbing his thumb over the image. The other picture was of the four of them. One of the last pictures taken before the night of the fire. His mom held Sam in her arms as his Dad has his arm thrown over Dean’s shoulders. They looked so happy, normal. He grabbed that picture too and carefully put them in his wallet. Next Dean saw his Dad’s brown leather journal and his eyebrows scrunched in confusion, ‘_Why wasn’t this with Sam?’_ He grabbed that as well and stuffed it into his bag, he’d have to look at it later when he didn’t have someone peering at him with a hunter’s gaze. Underneath it all Dean found the keys to the Impala. Their silver glinted under the fluorescent lights and Dean couldn’t help but smile. Pocketing the keys he closed the box and put it back on the shelf.

“Listen Dean—“ The old man stepped forward for a moment then hesitated.

“Look, I’m sure you and Dad go way back, but I’m sorry I’m not looking to reminisce or talk about what happened. I got what I came for and now I have to find my brother so unless you know where he is—“ The man looked startled then shook his head with a small smile.

“John did say you were out of the game—he’s at the Roadhouse, it’s a bar for hunters. He’s been livin’ there for—gosh just shy of 5 years? If he’s not there he’s hunting, then no one can find him till he’s back.” Dean nodded his head to himself and chewed on the inside of his cheek. Grabbing his bag he smiled at the guard again.

“Alright, where’s this Roadhouse? And where’s the impound lot?” He still had a long journey ahead of him, and he knew it’d be smarter to wait until morning, but the more time he wasted the less likely he’d be able to find Sam. The more likely something could happen and he’d lose the rest of his family before he had a chance to even see them again.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One small decision can break up reality into a multiple different facets of a whole. One small difference can change the course of everything. Dean makes a different decision on that night at Sonny's farm, he watches his Dad drive away in the Impala with Sam. Watches as he breathes a sigh of relief of finally being free from the Hunters life. But nothing ever stays away in any lifetime. It's been years but a sudden letter pulls Dean back in. Pulls him back into the life he fought to leave and now he has to save his brother, if there's even anything left to save.
> 
> **AU reality based off of the episode Bad Boys 9x07, what would happen if Dean decided to stay?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've got a long one for you! A long chapter for a long weekend :) if I have the time I might even be able to get the next chapter this weekend as well. Enjoy my dears!
> 
> As always I do not own any of the characters or the world, this is written for pure enjoyment

* * *

~~ _9 years ago ~~_

Damn, Sam’s legs were killing him. He had been leaning against the grubby motel wall for about an hour and he wasn’t sure how much longer he could hold his position. Sweat was making his shirt stick to his chest and his knees quaked at the uncomfortable pressure from holding the sitting position for too long. He had lost feeling in his toes ages ago and he still didn’t know when John would let him up.

The man was sitting at the kitchenette table, his guns field stripped in front of him and currently he was cleaning each one with practiced ease. His back was turned so Sam couldn’t see his face, couldn’t see the simmering anger that was still held in his tense shoulders.

He shook his head to clear some of the beading sweat from his eyes and tried to breath through his nose. He ran through some of the monster lore he memorized earlier in the day to try and distract himself from the increasing pressure in his muscles.

“Do you know why you are being punished boy?” The question startled him and he nearly lost his balance at the abrupt change in the atmosphere. This was the first thing John had said to him since he forced him against the wall an hour ago. Sam licked his dry lips and cleared his throat.

“Y-yes Sir”. John was still cleaning the weapons in front of him, he hadn’t turned around or shown any acknowledgment that Sam spoke. He almost gave it up as a figment of his exhausted brain when John put the gun down and sighed.

“Say it.” Sam’s stomach muscles were clenched uncomfortably and he lowered his head in submission for a moment, his voice coming out in a monotone drone.

“I’m not as good as Dean was when he was 14. He would have been fast enough to catch the Wendigo.”

“So what do you have to do now?” John’s rumbling voice sounded almost bored.

“I have to do better, be better.” John finally turned to look at him, his dark brown eyes cold and empty when he stared at Sam.

“—And what are you?”

I am not Dean, I am not your son.” The cold shame of truth left Sam’s heart in a bitter twisted mass of hate. The words always leaving him feeling emptier each day. His tears long since dried to ash when he’s fath—John—first instilled that truth into his very being. He wasn’t acknowledged again, John had turned away and resumed his duties while Sam crouched against the wall. The fire in his legs burning away with his sanity.

When a second round of spastic cramps were starting to worm their way from his calves to his thighs, John finally spoke again.

“You may shower, then sleep. No dinner. I’ll be back before dawn. Don’t move until I leave”. Sam watched with impatient eyes as he put away the cleaned weapons and grabbed his jacket from the coat rack. John took his time checking his pockets and Sam hated him a little more knowing he was stalling on purpose. Finally the man opened the motel door and with a quiet click, Sam collapsed to the floor.

His legs **ached** and the feeling of pins and needles in his feet grew painful as Sam just laid there for a few minutes moaning. He glanced at the clock by the bed and counted out the time he had been against the wall.

_‘Hour and a half—a new record’._ He struggled to roll onto his stomach and prop himself up on all fours. His legs were refusing to cooperate and he had to kneel like that breathing deeply until he could push himself to stand.

Each step was like fire through his muscles and Sam struggled his way to the bathroom. Once the dim light was on, he peeled away his dirty sweat soaked clothes and looked at the shower longingly. He doubted he could stand long enough to get a proper wash in, and soaking in the tub was definitely out. Grabbing a wash cloth, he sighed before turning on the faucet. Wiping his body down, he stumbled back to the main room and to the nest of blankets in the corner.

Gingerly he lowered himself to his personal space and finally sighed in relief as he stretched his groaning muscles. He stared at the dark ceiling for a long time. No illumination until the sporadic car would drive by, its headlights sweeping the quiet room. Sam’s fingers played idly with a loose thread of the comforter he was on while his mind wandered. He tried to come up with some game he could play to pass the time. His mind was his only real escape now. He’d often play the ‘what if’ game long into the night. Wondering what would have been different if his mom had lived, if his dad didn’t take up hunting. What they would have been like if he wasn’t born—if Dean hadn’t have left—

Sam physically rolled onto his side and away from the dangerous game his mind was trying to play tonight. It was no use playing make believe, nothing was going to change. John had made that perfectly clear last year—

’_You don’t get to wish him happy birthdays, or Merry Christmas’s. You’ll never see or speak to him again because I have to keep him safe. Safe from you.’_

_‘You’re a demon spawn Sam, you are not my son’._

Sam’s eye’s burned and he blamed it on the fatigue in his body. Forcing himself to relax he opted to just start reciting algebra equations and their answers. He hadn’t had to study for tests in over a year, he hadn’t needed to complete any homework since he was never sent back to school. Only normal kids get things like tests, and homework. Not freaks— not demons. Sam could finally feel the smoky tendrils of sleep and he prayed to whatever listened to monsters that his sleep would be dreamless.

‘_Hello again Samuel, my special boy’._

* * *

~~ _Current Day ~~_

Dean’s spine cracked about 5 times as he stretched beside the Impala. He was getting too old for long car rides. Closing the door, Dean squinted in the bright sunlight at the old building in front of him. The windows looked dark and grimy, and the light up sign was missing a few bulbs.

“Harvell’s Roadhouse—huh—no you don’t look creepy. Not one little bit”. Dean made a face before trudging through the gravel lot to the front door. His hand felt cool on the worn wood of the door and he stalled out for a moment, a sudden ache of fear gripping his heart.

_‘Sammy—Sammy could be here—‘ _The gravity of the fucked up situation didn’t quite grasp him until that very moment. He was never going to see his father again, that ship had sailed. But his brother—his little brother that he left behind--. Dean’s mouth felt dry and he licked his lips frantically, his steely nerve was failing him and he was moments away from just turning around and forgetting this every happened.

“So—you gonna open the door or are you admiring the paint job?” Dean startled and stepped back as a young masculine voice mocked him from behind. He eyed the stranger while trying to ignore the rising heat of embarrassment in his face. The kid in front of him had to be in his twenties, curly brown hair framed a smiling face with hazel eyes. The kid was **huge**. Dean couldn’t help but square his shoulders slightly, trying to stand at his full height. The kid just looked at him, a little humor twinkled in his eyes as he shifted the box of beer in his hands. He nodded his head towards the door again, “mind opening that for me”?

Dean tried to smile and act nonchalant as he sorta fumbled for the door, he felt like an idiot. The stranger thanked him as he walked through and Dean followed closely behind. The inside of this place looked no better than the out, but Dean could sense it was a well-loved bar. Mismatched bar tables filled the main room and a long dark bar was set off to the side. He could see a pool table a little further back and he raised his eyebrow at the man who appeared to be fast asleep on it.

He let his eyes roam around the random décor of the place while the gigantic kid went behind the bar and started to stock the bottles from his box. Dean tried not to stare at him outright as he leaned against the far side of the polished wood. He tried to see if anything about this stranger looked familiar to him at all, then he berated himself quietly. ‘_Dammit I don’t even know what he looks like anymore—‘._ The man on the pool table snorted in his sleep and both the kid and Dean looked over to him. The kid scoffed before slamming his hand on the bar a few times, startling the sleeping beauty.

“Yo Ash, you got a room for a reason—you know that right?” The guy, Ash, groaned and held his head a moment before blearily staring at the two. He let his head fall back to the table and gave them a wavering thumbs up before rolling onto his back.

“Never interrupt a sleeping man Sasquatch, it’s not polite in civilized company.” The kid—Sasquatch –just shook his head and kept stocking. He finally turned his attention to Dean and Dean could feel the scrutinizing hunter’s gaze on his person. He returned it without flinching, silently daring the younger guy to say something. They silently stared at one another for another few moments before an older woman appeared from the back.

“Hey Sasquatch, thanks for getting the run for me.” She briefly looked at Dean before turning back to Sasquatch, he smiled at her as he broke down the now empty box.

“No problem Ellen, least I can do while I’m here at least.” Ellen ran her hand up and down his arm for a moment before turning her full gaze to Dean.

“Well howdy there, haven’t seen you before.” Dean felt more comfortable dealing with her and turned on his charming smile full force.

“I haven’t been, but that might change going forward, name’s Dean.” He leaned forward, turning on his full charm and Sasquatch rolled his eyes before moving to the back room. Ellen seemed nonplussed and leaned towards him from across the bar and gave Dean a wicked smile.

“Well cowboy, as much as I would enjoy your pretty face, I don’t know if I want the kind of trouble you’re bringing in with you. How bout I just wet your whistle, point you in the direction of the closest tourist trap and send ya on your way?” Dean’s smiled faltered and he gulped at the fierceness in her eyes. This was one tough momma bear he wasn’t ready to deal with. Hastily raising his hands in surrender he tried to laugh off the tension that was building.

“Sorry, sorry. Sometimes a guy can’t seem to turn it off. Look, I’m looking for someone actually, I was told he lives here on and off. His name is—“ Ellen held up a hand and shook her head.

“Nu uh friend, things don’t work like that ‘round here. If you’re looking for someone and they don’t know you’re comin’ you might as well head back where you came from.” By now Ash had joined them at the bar, Dean could smell the day old beer wafting from his person and his nose crinkled slightly at the stench. He tried to ignore it and focus on the stone faced woman in front of him.

“Look, I can appreciate that—I really can. But my **brother** doesn’t know I’m coming because I haven’t been able to get ahold of him. My dad—my dad died from a hunt and I need to make sure he’s ok”. Dean watched as Ellen’s eyes flashed for a moment in understanding before glancing at Ash. She licked her lips and seemed to back down a little.

“That’s real nice and all, but there’s no brother’s here. Just my family. If you want you can come back at opening time and ask—the other hunters—see if anyone knows where your brother is.” Dean felt the disappointment in his gut like a heavy stone. He ran his hands over his face in frustration before reaching out to grip her hand on the bar.

“Please Ellen—if the thing that killed my dad is what I think it is—it’ll be after my brother next. I gotta know he’s safe.” Ash was guzzling a procured beer next to him, his eyes darting back and forth like watching a tennis match. He smacked his lips together before clapping Dean on the back, startling him from his stare down with Ellen.

“I’ll help ya my friend, could use with a good karma boost anyway.” Dean looks at him skeptically.

“You can find him?” Ellen laughs a little before pulling away from Dean’s grip.

“Yeah, he don’t look it, but he’s a bit of a genius.” Ash gave Ellen two finger guns before winking at Dean.

“Let me just get my equipment and I’ll be right back.” He turned to leave and Dean called out,

“Hey, man?” Ash looked at him expectantly. Dean could feel the gratitude ready to burst from his lips, but the fear of what the guy may, or may not find, made him hesitate.

“I, uh, I dig the haircut.” Ash shook his head like one of those hair commercial models before walking away.

“All business up front, party in the back.”

* * *

Dean had, had 2 beers by the time Ash returns. His clothes changed and hair still slicked back from an obvious shower. He is grateful the smell of stale beer is gone and Dean sends a silent prayer of thanks for small mercies. As Ash puts a beat up laptop on the table, the Sasquatch kid is back with Ellen behind the bar. Their dancing around each other cleaning and stocking, an easy conversation of nonsense played as background noise. Dean watched the kid’s movements, noticing how the other always kept his obviously dominate side towards the door. How he never had two full hands at once, and how he always seemed to keep Ellen shielded from the far windows.

“So!” Ash cracked his knuckles before rolling his shoulders, fingers poised over the keyboard, “For whom am I looking for?” Dean opened his mouth about to respond when he hesitated. Would Sam even go by his real name if he was hunting? Would he use some alias he invented from his dad?

“uhh—“ Ash looked at him skeptically. Scrambling for an answer, Dean almost just blurted out Sam’s name when he heard a crash of glass and Ellen’s yell of alarm.

Adrenaline jolted Dean’s body into action as he ducked under the wobbly table. Flaming bottles of liquor burst through the far windows, and as they crashed to the ground the fire spread with the spilt liquor. He could hear Ellen shouting at Ash and for some guy named Jo, ‘_must be Sasquatch’s real name’_. Dean followed Ash to the bar while crouching and watched as they grabbed two shot guns and shells from behind the rail.

Sasquatch was wrapping a bandana around his face, Dean assumed because of the growing smoke, and put his hand on Ellen’s shoulder.

“Go, out the back, take Ash and your new friend here. I’ll hold them off and buy you some time.”

  
“Is it him--?” Ellen’s voice wavered slightly in fear and she coughed from the smoke. Sasquatch shook his head and shrugged.

“I don’t know yet, but I’ll find out.” Ellen nodded and cocked her gun before trying to usher Ash and Dean away.

“Come on you two, we gotta go.” Ash scrambled quickly while Dean held back. He watched the kid peer over the bar at the front door, his fingers twitching and noticeably empty. He looked at Ellen as she shoved his shoulder.

“We can’t just leave him, he has no weapon!” Ellen shoved him harder and Dean stumbled back as the kid spared him a quick glance.

“It’s fine dude, just go. It’s safer for everyone if you just go.”

“Listen to the kid Dean, just follow me.” Reluctantly he allowed Ellen to manhandle him towards the back door and into a back hallway. Ahead of him he could see Ash handing off his shotgun to a shorter blonde girl who looked up as Ellen weaved around Dean in the small space.

“Jo! We gotta go, come on.” Dean looked back at the door towards the bar. He could see the flames growing in the small window and the sounds of heavy fighting were starting to filter past the thin barrier. ‘_Not Jo then—‘_ He startled when he felt a steel grip on his arm and let Ellen pull him away. He followed numbly for a few minutes until they came to a steel door, a demon warding sigil spray painted across its face. Ash was quickly turning the handle and ramming his shoulder against it to force their way to freedom.

“The damn thing is jammed! Motherfuck—“ The door gave way suddenly, letting Ash tumble onto the dusty ground. Sunlight streamed into the dim hallway and Dean turned briefly once more to stare back towards where they came. A strong sense of **wrong** overcoming him as he exited the building. Ellen had her arm around Jo’s shoulders, both clutching the guns as they stood for a moment catching their breath.

They could hear the scuffle noises from inside now among the crackling noises of fire. Shouts of pain and curses were muffled inside the old building and Dean swallowed hard. He’d been out of the game too long, his instincts falling flat and he was unsure on what to do. He looked from Ellen to Ash, they all looked grim and Ellen was starting to pull away towards an old pick up truck. Dean rushed after her, pulling at her arm.

“You’re just gonna leave him here?!” Ellen’s eyes flashed in anger as she yanked her arm from his grip.

“You’ve no business talkin’ to me that way. You’re no hunter, you’re probably the reason those things found us. Just get in your car and go before I slap you stupid.” Dean took a step back from the venom in her voice, his own temper flaring to the occasion. He opened his mouth to retort when a loud boom echoed around them and they watched horrified as part of the roof collapsed and sparks of flames and smoke billowed up. A ringing started to buzz in his ears and Dean felt a constriction in his chest as Ash and Jo screamed. Dimly he was aware of Ellen shouting someone’s name as she ran around to the front of the bar.

“SAM! SAM!” Dean blinked dumbly at her vanishing form and the world seemed to hesitate for a few minutes. He could see Jo and Ash following her but their movements were slow, like he was watching everything in slow motion. He felt his breath in his chest and he shuffled his right foot forward. In an instant the world sped up, the others gone from his sight, and he ran around the building to stare at the inferno.

_Take your brother outside as fast as you can and don’t look back! Now, Dean, go!_

The heat of the fire scorched his lungs as Dean heaved deep breaths. His eyes watered as he searched the dark doorway, begging to see that overgrown shadow. ‘_He was right there—he was right in front of me—“ _

“Sa—SAMMY!” His voice scratched against his throat as he started forward, rough hands scrambled against his arms pulling him back. Holding him from running forward. He could distantly hear Ellen and Ash shouting at him, trying to get him to stop. All Dean cared to hear were the flames as they hungrily burned against the worn wood and liquor soaked bar. His heart hammered in his chest as he struggled against their grip, his sole focus the burning building in front of him.

Dean twisted his arms and pulled, he felt a sharp pain in his shoulder and knew he dislocated it but he didn’t care. All thought narrowed to one thing, ‘_Get Sammy’._ He rushed forward, the heat from the flames causing his lungs to seize. He was almost through the doorway, eyes burning from the smoke when he saw a shadow move inside, a large shadow.

“SAM!” The figure stumbled towards him, its cough weak and barely heard over the flames. Dean could see flames crawling on Sam’s pant leg and he quickly removed his outer shirt. Rushing to the man, Dean pat him down extinguishing the flames and he grasped at Sam. Sam was leaning heavily against one of the pillars, his head flagging and eyelids drooping. Dean discarded his shirt and attempted to put Sam’s arm around his shoulders.

“C’mon little brother, let’s go—we gotta go.” Sam grunted and Dean used the last of his adrenaline fueled strength to lurch them forward towards the door. He could see Ellen’s tear streaked face and Ash was holding a crying Jo in his arms. He used their image as his guiding light and forced his legs to keep moving, ignoring the smoky burn in his lungs. Sam was stumbling next to him and Dean could feel his weight increase as his strength started to give out. “Almost there Sam, almost there”.

They stumbled through the door, the air outside noticeably cooler and Dean took huge gulps of breath as he finally lost the last of his energy. Both he and Sam fell to the ground, the gravel cutting into his knees. Ellen was next to him and Ash and Jo were with Sam. He watched with blurry eyes as they turned Sam over and removed his bandana, the soot line stood out on his face as they checked to make sure he was breathing. Dean batted away Ellen’s hands as he crawled over to Sam. His hand trembled as he cupped Sam’s cheek.

“Sam—Sammy? C’mon little brother, open your eyes. C’mon Sammy—“ Dean missed the looks Ash and Ellen shared as he watched Sam’s face. He begged silently for some sort of sign of life. ‘_Please—I just found him—don’t take him away‘ _He waited tensely for what seemed like eternity until Sam finally took a deep shuddering breath, his eyes flying open wide and scanning the sky above him. Dean let out the breath was holding and rested his forehead against Sam’s shoulder.

“Thank you—thank god—“


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One small decision can break up reality into a multiple different facets of a whole. One small difference can change the course of everything. Dean makes a different decision on that night at Sonny's farm, he watches his Dad drive away in the Impala with Sam. Watches as he breathes a sigh of relief of finally being free from the Hunters life. But nothing ever stays away in any lifetime. It's been years but a sudden letter pulls Dean back in. Pulls him back into the life he fought to leave and now he has to save his brother, if there's even anything left to save.
> 
> **AU reality based off of the episode Bad Boys 9x07, what would happen if Dean decided to stay?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Second fic in the SPN realm. I love my boys but also always want to explore new ways to torment them.
> 
> As always I do not own any of the characters or the world, this is written for pure enjoyment
> 
> **sorry this is a little late :) I might even have another chapter up for you all before the end of the day, playing hookie from work as it's benefits. this is bit of a filler, but we'll be getting into some nitty gritty soon with a single chapter dedicated to a flash back, enjoy!**

* * *

~~ _5 years ago ~~_

This demon was really starting to get on Sam’s nerves. His hands were bound in ropes above his head, shoulders straining against the position and he could feel a fiery pain in his stomach from the earlier stab wound he’d received when he’d let his guard down. The current numb-nuts in question was monologuing like some bad movie villain.

‘_Why do they **always** have to talk’? _Sam was barely listening at the demon prattled on about power and humans, his hands were rubbing against the rough rope as he worked to loosen the knot. His head felt heavy and he was struggling to keep his breathing even to avoid passing out. It would be quite inconvenient to slip into unconsciousness now of all times.

_Come on my special boy, you know what to do_.

Sam growled at the voice in his head and pulled harder on the ropes around his hands.

‘_Shut.Up.’_ He heard a quiet chuckle in his mind but the entity gratefully stated silent. The demon had stopped pacing now, he was staring at Sam with dark black eyes and a small sort of sad smile on his face.

“It’s ok Sammy, I know what weight you carry. I can make it go away you know, just one simple deal and *poof* no more freakishness for you.” Sam smirked at the smaller man and glared at him from lowered lids.

“You really think, a simple deal could fix all of this?” Sam vaguely gestured with his bound hands and laughed. “Are all you demons really this stupid? Or were you dropped on your horned head by momma?” He grunted in pain at the sudden punch to the gut, aggravating his wound. Blood trickled slowly down his skin leaving a tickling itching feeling on his hip. The demon was talking again, trying to persuade the boy of things like destiny and fate.

“Don’t you see Sammy, you’re meant for great things, spectacular things! Your name will go down in history and that’s all we want for you. Just tell me, where is your brother?” Sam rolled his eyes and shook his head, his right hand was almost loose enough to wiggle out.

“I swear to god you guys get dumber and dumber. I don’t know how else to explain, I don’t have a brother. Haven’t had a brother in years, he died. Dead, D.E.A.D, dead. Unless John went and fucked another lady on the side and didn’t glove it, there’s no one but little ‘ol me.” The demon got up in his face, knife pressing harshly on his cheek and he barely contained the flinch at the sharp stinging pain as it broke skin.

“No, no see I don’t believe you, I think he’s still alive somewhere. Left poor little Sammy all on his own, got out of the game, just like you wanted to a few years back. Yeah I know about your little run away attempt, we watched you, followed you, saw dear Daddy beat you back into submission. Back under his boot where you belong. Did you like it Sam, did you like what Daddy dearest did?” The demon leaned in close, his lips brushing against the shell of Sam’s ear. “Took it like the good little freakish whore you are didn’t you? Practically begged like the slut you are.”

A white noise grew in Sam’s head as his anger burst through the damn in his mind. His body thrummed and buzzed as he lost control and threw the demon away from his space. The man fell against the far wall, knife flying out of his hand. Sam barely felt the pull of the ropes as he yanked his hands free, his vision going red. He’d lost control now, the power from inside grew like a tempest and Sam let himself get carried off in its current. He gave the now frightened demon a small smile, a smile full of promise and retribution. Barely twitching his fingers, he pulled the demon towards him and suspended him in the air a few feet away. He could feel the demon try to pull at his invisible bonds, could feel him trying to smoke out of the poor meat suit he’d stolen.

Sam let a cold calm wash over his features as he put his hands in his jean’s pockets and circled the suspended demon. The man tried to turn his head to follow the hunter but whimpered when his body wouldn’t respond. Sam picked up the discarded knife and idly played with the sharp edge. Sam could feel the demon’s fear rolling off of him in waves.

“Y-you know that won’t kill me. You can’t kill me Sam.” Sam just chuckled as he faced the demon once more. He ran the tip of the knife down the suspended man’s chest, letting the sharp edge cut away at the fabric of his shirt.

“True, this can’t kill you, you can still feel the pain though. Still feel the way the cold metal will cut against your skin, rip away layers of you for me to see. Tell me, when you were on the rack, before you became this—did you enjoy the way you were pulled apart?” The demon gulped audibly and hissed when the first cut welled blood on his chest. Sam watched it bead and slowly roll down the pale skin before locking eyes with the demon again.

“I can, and will, make you enjoy this. I’ll ruin you like no demon has ruined you before. But you’ll live, I’ll make sure of it. I want you to live because you are going to be my final message to you’re kind.” Sam traced the knife a little lower, watched the demon’s skin shiver under its cool metal as it traced his skin just above his jeans. Another small cut and more blood welling to the surface. Sam licked his lips and leaned forward until he was resting his chin against the demon’s shoulder, his eyes cold and empty.

“I don’t have a brother, I’m not a Winchester. I’m Sam, and I’m coming for you all.”

* * *

~~ _Present Day ~~_

The air in the Impala was tense. Dean gave sparing glances to the backseat every few minutes to look at his giant baby brother who was slumped sideways, his eyes closed in a fitful sleep. Ash sat up front, his hands working across his keyboard quickly. None of them said anything as Dean drove down the abandoned road following Ellen’s pick up with Jo behind them in a red 1970’s firebird. Dean had given it an appraising look before the girl shrugged and said Sam wouldn’t appreciate his “sexy” being left behind. Sam’s rush of consciousness back at the bar had been brief. His eyes searching out the others before he gave a half smile and a thumbs up at Ellen and Jo before passing out again.

Ellen had stared at him a few minutes before looking back at her ruined bar, a wistful sad emotion across her face before it hardened again and took charge. Commanding Dean and Ash to maneuver Sam into the Impala’s backseat and told Dean to follow her with a no nonsense tone. They had moved quickly, unsure if more attacks were coming and unwilling to find out with their apparent heavy hitter out for the count.

Now as they drove, Dean could feel Sam’s presence behind him, almost feel the warmth of his brother’s body and the knowledge that _at last _he was back with his brother. Idly he played with the small pendant around his neck, the present from a little brother who was heartbroken one Christmas many years ago. Dean smiled fondly at the memory, sure it was the day Sam learned about what he and his Dad did, but it was also the day Dean and Sam had grown impossibly closer. He refused to think of the guilt that wavered just under the surface, the guilt of what he did just a few short years later to the younger kid. He dropped his hand and cleared his throat to get Ash’s attention.

“So—we gonna talk about what happened back there?” Ash spared him a brief glance before continuing his clacking on his laptop.

“What’s there to talk about? The Roadhouse was made, we got our asses handed to us.” Dean nodded at the briskness of the guys tone but refused to let the subject drop.

“And him?” Dean glanced again at the mirror to see his brother, his little brother, still half covered in soot and dried blood. Ash turned his head to look at the younger passenger as well. His eyes slightly misty before he blinked rapidly. He cleared his throat uncomfortably and turned away.

“What about him?”

“How’d he—how’d he get here? And how did he take on those—whatever they were?” Ash shook his head and clenched his jaw.

“Not my story to tell my friend. Sam is a man of mystery and he prefers it that way. If—and I mean **if **he decides to tell you it’s on him, not me.” Dean was disgruntled, he didn’t like secrets and the fact that the one person who could enlighten him was currently unconscious he persisted.

“Ash—he’s my brother, what the hell has been going on huh?” Ash just snorted and kept working ignoring Dean’s questions. Dean could feel his blood starting to boil at the quiet refusal and gripped the stirring wheel tighter. Glancing again at Sam however his gaze softened.

‘_Sammy—‘_

“We’re almost there, turn left here.” Dean startled slightly and followed the directions and Ellen’s truck down a side dirt road, trees loomed ahead of him surrounding the road and blocked his view of the distance. “When we get there—don’t get in the way ok? Maybe Ellen will tell you but—just—we’ve done this before dude ok, let us do what we need to do and then we’ll talk.”

Dean just nodded his head as he lost track of Ellen’s truck from under the trees, her truck taking the bumpy dirt road like a champ while Dean eased the Impala along. After a few jarring potholes he glanced back at Sam and saw his eyes were blearily open and looking around confused.

“Sorry little brother, almost there.” Dean missed the glare he received and Ash closed his laptop to turn around and stare at Sam.

“Where we at Sasquatch?” Sam blinked a few times while he struggled to sit up. A pained groan shot straight to Dean’s chest and he couldn’t help pressing down on the gas a little more, trying to rush them along to wherever it was Ellen was leading them to.

“Uh—dark—dark and—quiet—“ Ash nodded before turning back around and stared out the front window, his face slightly pale. Dean glanced at him before looking back at Sam. The kid looked wrecked, his skin a nasty shade of green under the dirt and blood. He was pressing a hand to his temple and Dean scrunched his eyebrows in concern.

“Sam—Sammy, need me to stop?”

“Don’t.” Sam’s voice was gravelly and he winced as he spoke. “Don’t call me Sammy.” Dean ignored the flash of hurt in his gut before returning his attention to the road in front of them. The car was silent again, Sam’s painful huffs of breath filling the cabin. Finally Dean saw the backend of Ellen’s truck parked next to a small cabin. She was standing outside, a worried look on her face and a pair of – were those handcuffs?

“Remember, don’t get in the way”. Ash barely waited for Dean to park before opening the door and jumping out. Ellen was quickly coming towards them, barely glancing at Dean as they opened the back door and manhandled Sam out. Dean rushed out as well and came around the car just as Ellen was securing Sam’s hands behind his back.

“What the hell—get off of him!” Jo was beside him then, her hand wrapped around his arm holding him still.

“Don’t, just don’t. Let them get him secure. It’s better this way.”

“Better?!” Dean rounded on her, fury in his eyes as he ripped his arm from her grasp. “He just saved all our asses and now you’re putting him in cuffs? What the hell is wrong with you people?”

“HEY!” Dean startled and turned to look at Sam, his eyes wide and he swallowed at the malice behind the hazel stare. “Don’t—don’t you dare judge them. They do what needs to be done. If you can’t handle it then get out. You’re not wanted here anyway.” Sam was doubled over, his face a grimace of pain as Ellen and Ash half dragged him to a shed around the side. Dean followed, his heart in his stomach, trying to ignore the words that Sam threw in his face. ‘_Sammy—‘_

He watched as Ash threw open the door and stared at the sigils paints and carved along the wood inside. A single chair sat in the middle of the small space, a large circular pattern on the floor. Ellen dumped Sam into the chair as Ash grabbed a chain that Dean hadn’t noticed before. It was bolted to the ground behind Sam and before he could process the weird-ass bdsm he was witnessing, Sam was collared; a thick leather strap around his neck with yet more sigils embossed into the dark material. Both Ash and Ellen stood back panting, their eyes glued to Sam as he fell forward slightly in the chair, the chain straining against his neck. Ellen glanced at Ash who nodded back before stepping forward.

“Hey—hey Sasquatch—where are we?” Sam shifted slightly in his seat, head still downcast. His chest was heaving slightly, loud gasps of breath echoed in Dean’s ears as he watched his little brother. He could feel Jo’s presence behind him, her hand was resting lightly on Dean’s arm again. He felt a little grounded at the light pressure and he swallowed as he watched his brother roll his shoulders.

“D-dark—so dark—why is it so dark? I don’t like the dark—please, please take me out of the dark. D-dad, daddy—“. Dean’s heart broke and he took in a shuddering breath, running his hand over his mouth.

“Oh Sammy—“. Suddenly Sam’s head snapped up, he stared at Dean. His eyes wild and Dean took a step back at the pure—hatred-- he saw in the man’s gaze.

“Sammy, you don’t get to call me Sammy. You lost Sammy, don’t you get it _big brother_,” sarcasm and venom dripped from Sam’s voice as he strained against the collar around his neck. ”Sammy’s gone, Dean, you have no Sammy. You left him and he rotted way until nothing was left, nothing but the darkness and the cold. He likes it here—**loves **it really. Come on, let me show you.” Sam smiled with a cruel twist of his lips and in an instant his eyes bled to yellow. A swirly smoky gaze as Sam pulled against his restraints. Ash and Ellen backed up out of the shed and closed the door quickly as Sam chuckled.

Dean couldn’t fight back the bile that clawed at his throat and he stumbled away from Jo’s supporting strength as he wretched into the bushes. His stomach burned from the acid and his sight blurred from the tears starting to form. ‘_Oh god—Sammy—how—‘. _He felt the others shift behind him and his attention turned to them swiftly, shoving his despair down he bore down on them with a hard gaze letting anger rise up into the sudden empty feeling in his heart.

“You will tell me how this happened, you will tell me now. Tell me how we **FIX HIM!**” Ellen sighed as Ash ran a hand through his hair, avoiding Dean’s gaze. Jo was still by the shed, a shot gun resting next to her as she leaned against the rough wood. She was steadily gazing at the door as they all could hear Sam inside, still laughing and taunting them. Ellen shook her head and started to walk away.

“This’ll be a long conversation and I need whiskey to get through it, you coming pretty boy or are ya gonna run your mouth some more?” Dean followed after her after a moment’s hesitation. He looked back at the shed that held his brother and set his mouth in a firm frown. Ash was standing with Jo now, both speaking in quiet tones. Dean scoffed and quickened his pace to catch up to Ellen who was unlocking the cabin’s front door.

‘_Don’t worry Sammy—I’ll save you.’_


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One small decision can break up reality into a multiple different facets of a whole. One small difference can change the course of everything. Dean makes a different decision on that night at Sonny's farm, he watches his Dad drive away in the Impala with Sam. Watches as he breathes a sigh of relief of finally being free from the Hunters life. But nothing ever stays away in any lifetime. It's been years but a sudden letter pulls Dean back in. Pulls him back into the life he fought to leave and now he has to save his brother, if there's even anything left to save.
> 
> **AU reality based off of the episode Bad Boys 9x07, what would happen if Dean decided to stay?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Second fic in the SPN realm. I love my boys but also always want to explore new ways to torment them.
> 
> As always I do not own any of the characters or the world, this is written for pure enjoyment
> 
> **Second chapter same day! Enjoy it since I don't think I'll get another one up for at least a week. We'll see how the days go, comments and kudos welcome! **

* * *

~~ 7_ years ago ~~_

Sam could feel the blood dripping from his nose as he stumbled through the darkness. Voices around him were laughing and taunting him as he tried to force himself forward. His head screamed in agony as he lurched to the side. He grunted in pain and hunched down for a few minutes, clutching his forehead. The men and women in the cages around him whooped and hollered at his display of weakness and vaguely Sam could see hands reaching for him from behind the bars of their prisons. Forcing himself forward, Sam ignored their voices as he made his way to the door on the far side of the warehouse. He hesitated a moment when the sound of metal on metal echoed from behind.

_‘Samuel—I don’t believe I said our training was done for the day—‘_Sam shuddered at the deep voice, a switch inside his mind threatening to flip and send him spiraling inside. He forced the bile from his mouth and continued to walk, trying to keep his pace from rushing, he would not show his fear.

The metal clanging noise grew louder and Sam could feel the migraine threatening to consume his senses. His insides ached with a deep bone crushing pain and all he wanted to do was lay down and surrender.

’_Move boy!’_ John’s harsh voice echoed in his mind, spurring Sam further along. ‘_Don’t be so weak, use what I trained you for. Don’t disappoint me again.’_ Sam shook his head to clear the voice, instantly regretting it as another wave of pain and nausea brought him to his knees. His hand rested against the bars of a cage next to him, his breath coming in short gasps as he fought the urge to puke. A cold hand snaked around his on the bars and Sam tried to yank back only for the grip to tighten.

He looked up with bleary eyes into the black eyes of a demon. A girl, no older than ten looked back at him with a wide manic smile.

“Come play with me little Sammy, come on Sam— Sam, Sam, Sam. Let me out Sam and we can play—play all day if you want, we can even play adult games”. The demon child laughed shrilly and started yanking Sam’s arm through the space in the bars. He tried to pull back, to wrench his arm free from the things possession but it merely laughed again at him and held tighter. Grasping wildly at his back, he tried to grab the gun he normally rested in his waist band but come up empty. He struggled with the thing, a tug of war for his arm until the other monsters around him grew quiet; the demon girl in front of him stilled.

Sam panted harshly, his head pounding in time with his pulse. He could feel a warmth against his back now, a harsh presence that chuckled against his ear. Hot breath whispered against his cheek and Sam froze at the closeness of the other.

“Got yourself in a bit of a pickle there my son. How, oh how, are you going to get yourself out of it.” The sound of a gun being disarmed echoed in the quiet and Sam saw it being tossed to his side. ‘_Shit’._ The man behind him was running his arms up and down Sam’s shoulders now, his touch causing shivers to run up his spine. ‘_S-stop—just stop’._

_‘No can do son, you need to learn—your my favorite Samuel, my little soldier, my little prince—‘_Sam grimaced as the words invaded his mind, he felt oily inside. Like the words were coating him from the inside out, leaving him dirty, unclean. ‘_You can do it Sam, just reach inside—reach inside and do it’_. Sam shook his head and started to struggle again, weaker than before.

“I—I can’t—I don’t have anything else—“The hands on his shoulders massaged his bunched muscles again, fingers digging in slightly making Sam wince.

“Yes you do Sam—you can do it. You know it’s there, that power was always with you. It belongs to you, just like how you belong to me. Do it Sam, show me what you truly can do. You can’t escape it Sam, it’s part of you—it **is **you. Take what’s yours, feed it, love it, grow it.” Sam’s muscles tensed as the man behind him whispered in his ear

_FOCUS BOY! _John’s harsh voice echoed in his mind and Sam closed his eyes, trying to search out the well of strength this man though he had. He dug deep, dug inside his mind scrambling to feel that rush. After a moment he sobbed in frustration, tried to turn to look at the man behind him.

“I can’t, I don’t have it. I—I can’t feel it anymore.” The man growled and stood back, Sam’s body feeling the sudden chill and the child demon released his arm, letting Sam fall backwards from the sudden release. He panted, eyes glassy as he stared up into the dark ceiling. Just above him, sam could vaguely make out the shape of a man. A man that had invaded his dreams when he was most alone. A man he called friend, and somewhere deep down, father. He felt shame wash over his features, knowing he let him down again. He took a shuddering breath- “I’m sorry—I’m so sorry, I tried. Really I did—I don’t—I can’t—“The man leaned down and helped Sam into a sitting position, wrapping his arms around the shaking teenage. He made soft shushing noises as Sam let a stream of apologies echo around them.

“There, there my son. It’s alright, perhaps you aren’t strong enough. It’s alright, you tried so hard I know. It’s not your fault you’re so weak—there, there.” Sam’s face warmed in shame and he lowered his gaze to the floor. He clung to the man quietly, his fingers trembling in the rough fabric of the other’s coat. When he felt the man shift to leave him, Sam tightened his grip.

“No! No please don’t leave, please. I—I’ll try harder, please don’t go. Please—“Sam’s fervent begging made the man smile in the darkness before he changed back to concern.

“I know Sammy, I know. You just want to please me, and I want to be pleased by you. It’s alright Sammy— it’s alright. We’ll just have to go back to step one, that’s all. It’s alright my special boy, I’ve got you.” Sam relaxed marginally at the man’s words and he nodded, trying to ignore the pain in his head. Step one, he could do step one.

Turning his body slightly, Sam looked up at the man behind him, he gazed at the soft dark features and licked his lips. He then glanced down at the bare arm being offered. He wasn’t aware as to when the jacket was removed, when a knife was drawn or when blood had started to pool before his eyes. Sam watched mesmerized as the dark, almost black, liquid slowly ran down the side of the arm before dripping to the dirty cement below. He licked his lips, a hunger growing in the pit of his stomach as a distinct smell overtook his senses. He looked back up into the dark face, his eyes searching—waiting for approval.

The barest of nods, and Sam pounced. His mouth covering the deep mark and he pulled the sharp metallic taste into his mouth. He moaned as a tingling began on his tongue before spreading through his head, the pain all but disappearing as he took greedy mouthfuls of the man’s blood. He felt his body become floaty and his mind fuzzy. He pulled back for a moment to stare at the man next to him on the floor. His hazel eyes tracing the face in front of him before leaning forward and brushing his crimson dyed lips against the older mans. A hand came up and tangled itself in his hair, deepening the kiss as the man growled deep in his throat. Sam felt a tongue invade his mouth and he submitted to it quickly, letting the warm muscle map out his mouth and claim ownership. The tingling on his skin intensified and unconsciously he started to shift his hips, a warmth pooling low in his stomach. The man chuckled again and pulled back from the kiss.

“Such a good boy for me, doing what you’re told like my good little soldier. Such a good boy.” The man’s hand ran through Sam’s hair and he leaned slightly into the touch. “Drink my Samuel, drink and then we’ll try again.” Sam didn’t even nod before latching back onto the man’s arm, the feel of fingers ghosting across the back of his neck before trailing down is back and resting lightly on his hip. Sam took smaller mouthfuls now, a satiated feeling warming his limbs and all he could do was smile and think,

‘_T__hank you Azazel’._

* * *

~~ Present Day ~~

Dean only took one shot of whiskey before settling for beer as Ellen paced around the small cabin. He watched her with a heavy glare as she checked the windows and the other rooms. More sigils were carved into the wood inside, he glanced at a few of them before returning his gaze back to Ellen’s form. He didn’t recognize any that he saw but figured they were for protection or warding as he watched her nod in satisfaction. Ellen had avoided him for the better part of a half hour until she finally ran out of things to check. She ran a hand through her dirty hair, before sitting on the small couch. She took another swallow from the bottle of whiskey, Dean leaned passively by the front door, left prop open so he could watch the shed in the distance.

“You called Sam your brother—I didn’t know he had a brother.” Dean looked at her with a cool gaze, his jaw clicking as he grinded his teeth together.

“For calling him family, I would think an important piece of information to know would be who his real family is.” Dean sneered. Ellen barely bristled at the jab and just took another drink.

“Sam is different, family doesn’t end with blood. If you’re his brother,” She stopped to glance at him, “then where were you?” Dean turned aware from her and stared at the shed. Ash and Jo were still standing outside, their bodies stiff and turned towards the door, probably listening to the man inside.

“Let’s just say I made a mistake”. A mistake he felt would haunt him for the rest of his days. Ellen made a noncommittal noise and he turned back towards her, trying to ignore the scene outside. She tilted her head a minute, staring off into space, then she took another breath.

“Sam showed up at the Roadhouse a couple years back. He was hunting a Wendigo at the time I think and got hurt. Big nasty chunk right out of his arm. I was surprised he didn’t bleed out on his way here.” Jo and Ash fixed him up, he stayed for a few weeks before shoving off and I thought that was that. He was a nice kid, quiet. Actually said please and thank you when ordering his food.” Ellen gave a small chuckle and Dean couldn’t help but feel the ghost of a smile on his face.

“About two months or so later he showed up again. This time it was a shape-shifter. Nasty little fucker that banged him up pretty good. Must have messed with his head something fierce though. He seemed—broken almost.” Ellen took another drag from the nearly empty bottle before setting it on the coffee table between them. Dean watched her, her eyes clouded with memory and Dean tried to picture Sam, a young kid wandering into that bar. A kid who had no right hunting these creatures. Dean felt his voice croak slightly as he tried to speak.

“Where was his dad?” Ellen just glanced at him, a shrug of her shoulders before looking at her hands.

“I tried asking him that once, he just shook his head and said ‘I have no dad’. He seemed so, lonely, I kept him at the bar as long as I could. Teaching him how to bartend. How to cook. Ash taught him some hacking skills and how to make fake badges and the like. He and Jo would play pool and hustle each other back and forth.” A weak smile graced her face a moment before it darkened again. “He was with us for a few months that time, worked himself into our system seamlessly, like he’d always been there. Then he started having these—nightmares—god it was horrible the first night. He described it like watching a horror movie he couldn’t turn away from. Like he was being forced to witness the deaths of people he couldn’t save.” Ellen stood and started to pace a little, her face agitated and Dean finished the beer in his hands then rolling the warming bottle between his palms.

“He—he would disappear for weeks at a time, always coming back looking—so different. Cold almost, we tried to get him to talk about it but he had shut down. Nothing we did would get through to him. Then one day a nest of vamps came through. Assholes tried to rob me,” Ellen gave a humorless chuckle before looking at Dean, “he saved us, I don’t know how he did it, but he took those vamps out one by one with barely a sweat. He didn’t even blink as they fell in a bloody mess on the floor. I’d never seen anything like it and it scared the shit out of me.” They locked eyes for a moment, Dean could see the lingering traces of fear in her gaze and he looked back at the shed before turning back to her.

“And what’s with the dungeon of chains out there— what happened to him—“Ellen gazed out the open door. He could see the conflict in her eyes as she hesitated. “Please Ellen—“.

“He—I’m not really sure—sometimes when he over does it—it’s like something else is driving the wheel. The first time—with those vamps—we didn’t know what happened. It was like Sam was just gone. In his place was this darkness and he tried to kill us too. Nearly had me—his eyes were just blank and—that yellow gaze—I thought that was it until he started to have a seizure on top of me. Knocked his ass out cold. We tied him up, waited for him to be conscious again. Tried exorcising him, tested him with silver, iron—anything we could think of. Nothing affected him. He wouldn’t stop apologizing, said it was his fault and if we’d just untie him he would leave. Naturally we didn’t really believe him—we kept him like that for about a week, just waiting for whatever the yellow eyed freak was to show itself again. It wasn’t until demons showed up that we understood—“Ellen was leaning against the doorframe now, barely paying attention to Dean as she stared at the shed. Jo and Ash had opened the door and were talking into the darkness, neither of them could see Sam but they did watch as Jo’s shoulders sagged and Ash had stepped into the small building.

“Look—he’s gonna want a shower and something to eat before you start hounding him. For as long as I’ve known him, he’s never mentioned you or his dad so I don’t know if you really are who you say you are—or if you’re playing some sort of game. I’m just gonna say this once” Ellen rounded on Dean and he leaned back from the fierce look in her eyes. “You hurt my boy, I hurt you”.

* * *

Sam’s walk had been unsteady as he finally came into the cabin about a half hour later. Ash and Jo supporting each side of him and to Dean’s eye, Sam looked about ready to pass out again. The first thing his brother did however, was search out Ellen, who was standing by the kitchen sink, a glass of water and pills in her hand. He gave her a wane, grateful smile and took them without hesitation. Once the glass was empty, Ash helped him towards the bathroom.

“Need help in there to Sasquatch or you good to go?” Sam waved him off with a small grunt as he leaned against the doorframe. Ash let him go reluctantly and watched as the door was quietly shut. They waited in the silence for a minute before releasing a combined breath as the shower turned on. Ash looked at Ellen and gave her a wavering thumbs up. “He’s good, came back pretty quick this time. Even asked if his hair was mussed up.” Ellen gave a watery chuckle and tension in the room defused a little. Dean glanced between the three of them then looked at the closed bathroom door. He could feel a chasm growing in the space between them. An empty hole that Dean created and he didn’t know how to even begin to cross it. He was an outsider here, in his own brother’s life, the thought sat heavy in his gut and Dean looked down at his hands unsure on what to do. He jumped slightly when he felt a hand on his shoulder and looked back up into Ellen’s face.

“Sam is special, he is fighting a battle internally that I think would destroy anyone else. What he does—he saves people—the only way he knows how. We don’t really understand what it is that happens to him, but we’ll protect him all the same.” The silent challenge all but growled at him made Dean raise his hands in surrender before he stood.

“Look I get it, I really do—you were there for him when I wasn’t. But I’m here now. I’m not going anywhere. I want to know what’s going on so I can help him, whatever happened—I want to help him.” At some point the water had shut off and the stillness in the room was deafening. Dean waited for the door to open again, to see the man his brother had become in his absence. He swallowed roughly, suddenly nervous.

_You don’t get to call me Sammy. You lost Sammy, you don’t get it big brother—Sammy’s gone_

“I uh—I need some air”. Dean made a hasty retreat outside just as the bathroom was starting to open. He didn’t wait, or turn around, just booked his cowardly ass outside and down the porch stairs. He was aware he was avoiding the elephant in the room and silently cursed himself out as he paced towards the Impala. “You fucking idiot”. Dean leaned his forehead against the driver’s side door, the warm metal burning against his skin. He was running again, just like he did when he was a scared teenager. Trying to avoid the hard part of life, avoid the talk he knew was coming.

Groaning, Dean turned around to lean against the car and let his head fall back, eyes closed. He didn’t even know where to start with this. Talking to Sam was easy once, hardest conversation they ever had was if Santa was real or not. Now—now Sam was in a whole new world that Dean could barely remember.

“Come on man, nut up, let’s go—stop being an idiot, it’s just Sam.” His little pep talk not really doing anything, Dean popped the trunk to grab his bag and as an afterthought, his dad’s journal. He hadn’t had a moment to read it yet, the urge to find Sam winning out, but now that he was here—

Dean flipped to the last few pages, finding an entry from a few months ago, he sat on the trunk and glanced around to make sure he was alone before starting to read.

_May 2nd 2013_

_Sam’s 23 now. The demon hasn’t shown its face and the trail has run cold again. I’ve sent him off to hunt on the coast, get him as far away from Dean as I can until I know the danger has passed. Saw Dean at his mechanics garage. Kid is all grown now. Took care of two demon’s last week, their activity seems to be—_

The rest is scribbled over, Dean can barely make out the words until it picks up again on the next page, slightly shocked to see it’s a message addressed to him.

_Dean- By now you’ve got the letter from that stupid law office and the Impala. I won’t get mushy again on this, no time. If you haven’t yet you need to find Sam. Sam is a danger to others and needs to be watched and if needed, restrained. I caught up with the thing that killed mom, some sort of Demon if the monster I questioned is to be believed. Sam isn’t human Dean, Sam isn’t right. I would have taken care of him ages ago but something tells me he’s important to the Demon. The Demon has some sort of plan for him and right now he’s my only lead. It’s up to you now son, avenge your mom, and me. Watch out for Sam, try to save him if you can, if you can’t, well, if you can’t you have to kill him. There is no other way._

_Don’t trust him._

Dean re-read the passage again, and for a third time. He shook his head in disbelief before turning and looking back at the cabin. Voices and laugher filtering outside from the open doorway. Dean shook his head again and snapped the journal closed. He couldn’t understand the message his Dad was trying to leave him, Sam not human? That’s—well—Dean remembered the yellow eyes that looked at him not long ago and swallowed hard. He didn’t want to believe his dad—didn’t want to think that his little brother, the one that was once afraid of the dark and believed in having a normal life, was anything but his brother. Pushing the journal into the bottom of his bag Dean straightened his spine, and turned back to the cabin only to stop when he saw Sam standing on the porch staring at him.

When Sam saw Dean staring, he started down the wooden steps slowly. His eyes drilling into Dean’s with a fierce intenseness that made Dean fidget slightly. Sam continued forward until he stood near the hood of the Impala and crossed his arms.

“Why are you still here?” Dean raised an eyebrow. He’d expected a question, a how are you, where have you been, how’s life—not—that.

“Sa—“Sam shook his head and scoffed before looking down at the black hood.

“Save it alright, I don’t know why you came here but you shouldn’t have.” Dean tried to ignore the hurt reawakening in his chest and instead replaced it with the lingering anger.

“Why would I come here? Gee Sam I don’t know, to find you? See if you were okay? See if whatever killed Dad killed you to? Damn Sam, what the hell happened to you? You’re my bro—“

“Stop.” The quiet tone cut through Dean like a hot knife, a tingling on his skin made him itch and for a moment he thought he saw a flash of yellow in Sam’s eyes.

“You don’t get to ask me those questions, you don’t get to ask any questions. You don’t get to come here demanding answers and expect me to just roll over for you. I know why you’re really here, I don’t know what killed John nor do I care. I owe him nothing—and you are not my brother. Just get in your car and leave.” Sam gave him a dismissive wave before turning around and heading back towards the cabin. The tingling on Dean’s skin stopped and the flush of anger reared forward. Before he could stop himself, Dean stomped forward, gaining ground and shoved Sam’s shoulder. He ignore the hiss of pain and shoved again when Sam turned around.

“You don’t owe him anything? You don’t care? What the fuck is wrong with you Sam. First you act like you don’t even recognize me at the bar, then you tell me I’m not your brother? Really?! Cause I’ve got blood and memories to prove otherwise. What have you done huh? What mess did you create that Dad had to try and bail you out of that cost his life. What is worth it Sam? Hunting on your own? Was it worth the danger you put him in?” Sam’s face grew darker the more that Dean shouted at him, his feet planted and barely moved every time Dean shoved him. Dean’s rage only grew at the indifference he thought he saw on the younger man’s face and before he knew it, his fist was stinging, blood dribbling down Sam’s split lip. Dean saw the blood and felt like a flood gate had opened.

He moved with barely any grace in his steps as he wound up again to clock Sam, all his anger and sadness fueling his blind rage.

“He was hunting alone, you should have been with him! You two should have protected each other! What happened Sam? Huh? What’d you do to piss him off so much that he left you behind?” It took him a minute to realize Sam wasn’t fighting back, he was on the ground, hands at his sides as Dean slammed into his face. He could vaguely hear Ash and Jo shouting from the porch but he spared them no mind. Gripping Sam’s shirt, he hauled his brother up until they were a few inches apart and he stared into his brother’s eyes, searching for that yellow tint.

“What’d you do to turn into a monster Sammy?” Sam just gave him a half smile, one of his eyes swelling shut as a bruise started to form. He rested one of his hands on Dean’s clutched fist in his shirt, his fingers felt cold and clammy.

“Dean, I always was a monster.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One small decision can break up reality into a multiple different facets of a whole. One small difference can change the course of everything. Dean makes a different decision on that night at Sonny's farm, he watches his Dad drive away in the Impala with Sam. Watches as he breathes a sigh of relief of finally being free from the Hunters life. But nothing ever stays away in any lifetime. It's been years but a sudden letter pulls Dean back in. Pulls him back into the life he fought to leave and now he has to save his brother, if there's even anything left to save.
> 
> **AU reality based off of the episode Bad Boys 9x07, what would happen if Dean decided to stay?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Second fic in the SPN realm. I love my boys but also always want to explore new ways to torment them.
> 
> As always I do not own any of the characters or the world, this is written for pure enjoyment
> 
> **This one is a little shorter, the next chapter will be purely Sam-centric in present day, the following will be a bit of a time jump backwards and will be rather difficult to post. I don't know if I'll have it done by next week but I will try to keep myself to my schedule. Happy reading and please feel free to kudos/comment :)

* * *

~~ _5 years ago ~~_

Sam stifles another yawn as he crosses the state line into Nebraska. He hums along with the soft music, his firebird coasting along the mostly empty interstate. He’s only a few hours from the Roadhouse and he can already taste Ellen’s homemade chili and the ice cold beer he knows is waiting for him. This last vampire nest had been rough, the stitches along his ribs could attest to that. He shifts in his seat for a moment trying to relieve some of the stiffness that has settled in his back and moans to himself at the pain. Sighing, he shakes his head before giving up the long drive to settle for the night. He’d be near incoherent soon anyway, wouldn’t be the best death for a hunter to just fall asleep at the wheel.

Stopping at the first motel he saw, Sam quickly booked a room and grabbed his duffel from the trunk of his car. Barely taking in the horrible décor, Sam locks the door behind him and flops onto the single bed with a groan. A headache was starting to form and he scrunched up his forehead letting out a pitiful whine.

“This night—just can’t get any worse—“ it was silent for a few minutes, Sam breathing deeply relaxing his muscles. He’s nearly asleep when he’s phone starts to buzz in his pocket. Sam opens his eyes to stare at the darkened room and curses himself. “It’s like I just want to invite the dangerous irony into my life”. Without looking he fishes his phone from his pocket and brings it to his ear.

“It’s 3am, if you’re not dead or dying fuck off”. He hears a feminine chuckle on the other side and the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end.

“What’s a matter Sam? Latest hunt got too rough for you?” Sam swallows hard before rolling over to stare at the ceiling.

“What do you want Ruby?” He can hear cars moving in the background, a horn sounds followed by sirens from an ambulance. He quirks an eyebrow at the curtained window when he hears the same sirens again, an echo from the phone pressed tightly to his ear. He sighs and shakes his head. “So do you need me to open the door or are you gonna just invite yourself in.”

“Now Sam—“ Ruby condescendly whispers, “You know if you don’t want your monthly dose I could always just—walk away—“ Sam feels his throat constrict and a sudden cold chill makes him shiver as he sits up. He’s quickly walking to the door, refusing to acknowledge the shake in his hand as he removes the deadbolt and turns the doorknob.

On the other side of the door there is a petite brunette smirking at him, her phone next to her ear as she’s leaning against the door jam. She closes the flip phone slowly and eyes him up and down before huffing a laugh and pushing her way into the room. He stands still for a moment, breathing in her faint perfume and the scent of something **more**. She barely has time to remove her leather jacket before he’s snaked his arms around her stomach and pulls her close to his hard chest. He’s buried his nose into her neck and takes a deep breath before placing hard open mouthed kisses along her pulse point. She’s reaching a hand back now, running her fingers through his hair and scraping her nails in his scalp. She tries to pull him closer as she pushes her hips backwards, a soft moan in her throat.

His hands have travelled under her t-shirt now, their wide expanse covering her smooth stomach. His left hand lightly traces against her skin just above her jeans as his right hand ghosts over her lace covered breasts. Ruby bites her lip in pleasure before turning in his arms to face him. Sam cups her ass and picks her up effortlessly as she wraps her legs around his waist. Dipping forward, Ruby lightly licks Sam’s lips in a teasing kiss before he growls and pushes forward, capturing her lips in a dominating kiss. It’s almost bruising in force and Ruby moans into his mouth as he forces his tongue inside, stealing her breath from her lungs. She feels a firm surface on her back and vaguely realizes Sam has pushed her against a wall, holding her steady with his wide stance as his hands are back to roaming under her shirt. At some point he’s unclasped her bra and his thumbs are tantalizingly close to her nipples, just circling lightly on the skin of her breasts teasing her.

Ruby breaks off the kiss and forces his head back onto her neck where he latches on and sucks a bruise to the surface. She tightens her legs around his waist and grinds against his stomach, an urgent panting building between them.

“Sam—god Sam, get on with it would you?” he stiffens for a moment before chuckling darkly against her skin. He kisses the hickey he left softly before leaning back and looking her in the eyes. She stares back at him with an unwavering gaze, a slight cock of an eyebrow and a small smile.

“You’re right Ruby, I’d hate to inconvenience you any longer than necessary.” His words are biting and if she cared, Ruby might say it would hurt her feelings. Instead she just rolls her eyes and huffs before baring her neck again. One of Sam’s hands reach into his back pocket and she hears the familiar noise of a switch knife. The slight biting pain from the cut is not unexpected and she shifts her hips again at the roll of pleasure the pain brings. Sam tosses the knife onto the table next to them before licking the rolling blood from her skin. Finally with a smile of satisfaction, Ruby holds Sam’s head to her skin as he drinks. The pain at the cut rolls through her body and she starts to grind again against him. He moans in response and pushes back, readjusting his grip and lowering her slightly. His erection pushes against her jeans and she calls out his name quietly as the tingling in her body begins to grow.

She can feel him sucking against her neck, her blood filling his mouth as he ruts against her. His hips pushing forcefully against her. She knows the high he’s travelling, the numbing of his mind as his primal instincts take over. She pushes back, increasing his frenzy as he moans against her, her hands tangled tightly in his hair. Her release close, Ruby grabs one of his hands and guides it to roughly fondle her breast. She bites her lower lip to stifle her shout as his rough treatment pushes her over the edge. He stutters his rhythm for a second before relaxing completely against her, his forehead now resting against her shoulder as he takes deep breaths. She lets him be for a moment, re-centering her own hazy mind before patting him on the shoulder to be let down.

“All right cowboy, that was fun but duty calls.” He doesn’t even grunt a response as he releases her, letting her wobbly legs slide back to the floor. His eyes are foggy and distant and she knows he’ll be down in a few minutes. Feeling a brief moment of compassion, Ruby pushes him back towards the bed and unlaces his boots as he flops down. He’s blinking slowly as she stares down at him, a mixture of emotions crossing her face at his strung out expression. She shakes her head before retrieving her jacket to head out.

“Nice to see you again Sam, don’t be a stranger. After all, we monsters have to stick together.” She’s out the door before he can look at her, leaving him alone again in the dark motel room. Sam’s feeling light headed and foggy, his pants uncomfortably wet with his shame. He’d cry if he had the capacity anymore. He’s lived with this isolation for so long though it barely phased him anymore. Letting himself slip into sleep, he welcomes the darkness like an old friend—escaping the nightmare of his reality for a few hours at a time.

* * *

~~ _Present Day ~~_

The clearing is silent at Sam’s calm omission. Dean’s fists are still tangled tightly in Sam’s shirt. Blood from Sam’s split lip and nose has dripped onto his knuckles and Dean lets him go quickly, taking a few steps back.

_Dean, I always was a monster._

Sam is slow to get up, grunting in pain and he wobbles for a second on his feet before looking at Dean again, his eye completely swollen shut now. He raises his hands from his sides and shrugs as Ellen and Ash are walking towards them.

“What’d you expect to happen here Dean? Did you really think that I would be the same 12 year old kid you remember? The same nerdy idiot who followed his brother wherever he went? No Dean, I grew up. I am what I am, you are what you are. We don’t mix, it was good you stayed away really. Now, how ‘bout you just jump in that stupid car and roar out of here. We can see each other again in another 10 or so years if you want.” Sam turns to walk away, his back is rigid and Dean can feel the last of his control slipping away.

“Sam—wait—you can’t just walk away like this. Talk to me—“ Sam whirled around, anger glowing in his eyes and for a moment Dean is reminded of John, the way his temper would always flare quickly and hotly.

“I can’t walk away?! Why do you even care? I’m not your brother Dean, you should have stayed away. John got you out for a reason!” Dean looked at him in confusion, his hands falling to his sides as he eyed his brother.

“What do you mean John got me out—he didn’t—“

“Just shut up Dean, I don’t care. I don’t know why you really came here, but you can leave now. If you’re looking for answers I don’t have any. I don’t know what killed John, I don’t know where he even was when he died. Fuck I didn’t hear about it until Ellen was invited to the hunter gathering.” Sam hung his head, letting his bangs cover part of his face, shielding the bruises from Dean’s view. “He and I haven’t been together in years and we didn’t really feel the need to keep in touch.” Dean can see Sam’s anger deflating in front of him, exhaustion must be creeping up on him as his posture is starting to sag and Dean has to fight the urge to step forward and hold him upright.

“Sam—I’m sorry, I let my temper—“

“It’s the Winchester way, don’t worry about it. Now seriously, just go home Dean. Go back to your girl and your life. This isn’t your life, I’m not your brother.” Without waiting for a response Sam turns and let’s Ellen and Ash help him back into the cabin. Dean tries to follow but stops when Ellen turns towards him with a pistol pointed his way. Her eyes are cold and he remembers the threat stated not an hour earlier. He raises his hands in defense and steps back towards the Impala and throws the bag in the passenger seat. Dean refuses to think about the clamp around his chest as he starts the car. Refuses to acknowledge the tightness in his throat as he presses down on the gas a little too hard and spins the tires in the gravel before taking off.

No he wouldn’t think about the hollow empty feeling in his chest his brother’s words had carved. Wouldn’t acknowledge the hopelessness creeping in on his senses as he drove away from his remaining family. He replayed their conversation over and over again in his head, a horrible repeat pounding in his skull with his dad’s words weighing heavy on his heart.

_Sam isn’t human Dean, sam isn’t right. The Demon has some sort of plan for him—_

_Watch out for Sam, try to save him if you can – if you can’t you have to kill him_

_Don’t trust him_

It isn’t until the sun has set and he’s several hours away that a few tears fall in the silence of the car. Dean knows there’s nothing he can do. John expected him to watch out for Sam, to either protect or kill him. But Dean doesn’t even know this Sam, all he can remember is Sammy. His obnoxious nerdy little brother that would steal the last of the cereal, only to give him the toy inside. The same little brother that would insist on staying up until their Dad got back from his hunt to make sure he was okay.

Dean has to pull over in the darkness, his eyes too blurry to continue. In the privacy of the Impala, the one home he had growing up, Dean let’s go and let’s his guilt and shame wash over him. He’d done plenty of stupid things growing up, quite a few leading to endless teasing from Robin or Sonny. But none of that compared to the shame now etched into his soul, he had left his brother behind. He had abandoned Sam for a normal life, one the kid deserved just as much as he did, and there was no going back to fix that, Sammy was well and truly, was gone.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One small decision can break up reality into a multiple different facets of a whole. One small difference can change the course of everything. Dean makes a different decision on that night at Sonny's farm, he watches his Dad drive away in the Impala with Sam. Watches as he breathes a sigh of relief of finally being free from the Hunters life. But nothing ever stays away in any lifetime. It's been years but a sudden letter pulls Dean back in. Pulls him back into the life he fought to leave and now he has to save his brother, if there's even anything left to save.
> 
> **AU reality based off of the episode Bad Boys 9x07, what would happen if Dean decided to stay?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always I do not own any of the characters or the world, this is written for pure enjoyment
> 
> **I know this is late, apologies! I might have a new chapter up for you in a day or two as long as work doesn't bog me down :) comments and kudos always welcome! Let me know if the plot isn't making sense? I'm losing it a little but do have an end showdown planned. Happy hunting!

* * *

_~ 4 years ago ~_

_“John, John! Goddammit—DAD!” The man’s shoulders stiffened as Sam yelled at him from across the warehouse. Sam was currently nursing his dislocated shoulder as he attempted to stumble after him. His face covered in blood and bruises. John was no better, a wide gash running down his arm, leather jacket destroyed from the wicked knife that was thrust against him. His head twitched slightly as he listened to Sam curse under his breath, then silence. Emotions swirled in John’s mind, an angry boil of hatred at Sam, and self loathing. At some point in his wretched life, John realized just how fucked up he was. How cruel he could really be, his youngest son being a walking, talking, testament to that._

_“What Sam?” He was tired, bone dead and weary tired. His eyes closed slowly, trying to block out the sight of his boy._

_“You’ve got to listen to me—John—the demon that killed mom—you can’t—”_

_“I can’t what?” Poison flooded his mouth and John turned to face the man behind him. His thoughts of apologies and platitudes dissipating immediately. “I can’t find him? Fight him? Win? Why—because he has his boy king to do his dirty work?” Sam’s frame cringed inward, and his gaze dropped to the dirty floor. It didn’t seem to matter how much time had passed, how much hunting and training he went through, when his defenses were shredded, Sam was still just a 12 year old boy scared and alone. It reminded John so much of how it used to be, how He and Dean and Sam would travel as a family, taking care of each other—it reminded him of a better time and it pissed him the fuck off._

_“It’s not like that—He—He showed me how to do good John, how to use the gift—”_

_“It’s not a FUCKING GIFT.” John’s fists are flying again, the satisfying crunch of bone and skin echoes in his ears. “You’re a monster Sam, a Demon’s lapdog. Nothing you have done has been for good. I would kill you where you stand if I could. Goddammit Sam.” His punches fall lower, cracking a rib probably and aggravating the stab wound he had given him just a few short minutes earlier. He stands, huffing now over Sam’s form. His eyes blazing in righteous fury as he stares down at the abomination._

_“When I find that colt—I will kill you, do you understand? No amount of Demon blood will save you. I will end you.”_

_John spits at Sam’s form before retreating towards his car, “Don’t contact me again”. Sam watches him retreat out of his one good eye, heart thumping painfully against his chest. He swallows heavily, ignoring the taste of blood in his mouth and fingers the handle of the 1836 revolver in his waistband. After a few minutes he slowly sits up, leaning against his good arm._

_“Oh Samuel, I see you didn’t take my advice.” The hairs on the back of Sam’s neck prickle at the intrusion and he tries to ignore it as he stumbles to his feet. “I told you he wouldn’t listen, why must you punish yourself like this?”_

_“Just—shut up.” Azazel smiles at his protégé as the man groans in pain and sways on his feet. His plan couldn’t have been going more smoothly, if not for the persistent nagging annoyance that was Sam Winchesters moral compass._

_“Son—You know I just want to protect you, why must you fight me at every turn?” Sam spat more blood at Azazel’s feet and shot him a glare before stalking past him towards his car, hopefully this time John didn’t slash his tires._

_“Protect me? Do you really think I’m that much of an idiot? You’ve used me since the first time you came to my dreams Azazel.” The demon follows him from a safe distance, his eyes trained on the glint of the revolver handle in his pants._

_“John has been killing my special children ever since that idiot Max let it slip more of you existed. You’re all that’s left Samuel. I have to protect my investments.” Sam snorted as he unlocked his door, grateful for once he’d be able to have a quick getaway. He longed for a hot shower and food, nearly able to taste his freedom from the stalking idiot, he paused when he felt a hand on his shoulder._

_“Samuel, you know I can’t let you leave like this. Let me take care of you.” The faint feeling of Azazel’s powers washed over him and Sam felt himself sway on the spot. Heat blossomed from the demon’s hand as it slowly slid over his shoulders and down to his lower back. Azazel was crowding him now, pushing against him subtly until Sam was leaning his chest against the side of his car. The warmth that permeated against his dirty clothes made Sam breath deeply for a moment, a familiar tingle beginning to brush against his senses. He knew this was wrong, new that what the demon was doing was nothing good. He just couldn’t seem to find the strength to care at the moment. Azazel’s hands were rubbing his hips, his lips close to the shell of his ear, “Let me take care of you like I used to Samuel, just let go”._

_Sam was tempted, god he was sorely tempted. He was so tired from the fight and running, every day he played like it was his last and one day he knew it would be. What was the point of anything else anyway? Not like he had a family, no mother, father—brother—_

_Sam felt hardened walls in his mind slam down and he let out a low snarl in the back of his throat. Goddamn demons. The click of the Colt’s hammer made Azazel still and pull back slowly. He eyed the back of Sam’s head before looking down. The wretched gun pointed at him from Sam’s side, his grip unwavering._

_“You’re poison Azazel, the only reason you are alive is because I owe you a debt.” Sam turned, his eyes cold and hard as he stared down the older man. “One day that debt will be repaid, then it’ll be your turn to run”. The demon huffed a forced laugh, hands raised in the air in surrender. He didn’t say anything, merely let his yellow eyes sweep Sam’s form before winking, and then he was gone._

_Sam slumped heavily against his firebird, his eyes sliding shut as he releases the colt and let’s he arm fall to his side. Aches and pains he’s ignored come back full force now that Azazel is gone and Sam feels like drowning in the sensations. He breathes as deeply as his cracked and bruised ribs will allow, the most recent brush with John catching up with him. These annual meet ups were starting to take a toll on his soul and he let a few precious tears escape as he wallowed in self-pity. Sam opened his eyes again to gaze at the sky, stars twinkled against the semi-dim sky, light pollution from the nearby city made it difficult to find any clear constellations. He let his mind wander for a few moments as his eyes searched for answers he knew the sky would not hold._

_‘Please—if anyone is listening—if anyone cares—please let this end.’_

* * *

~ Present Day ~

The drive home was long and quiet as Dean finally pulled into the parking lot of his apartment building. The Impala’s engine rumbled softly in idle, mimicking his tired state of mind as he stared blankly at the brick building. Dean had felt hollow nearly immediately after leaving Sam behind, a bitter reminder of when he decided to leave him all those years ago. When he was a kid, the consequences of his actions were unimportant, but now his history has caught up to him and his brother paid the price. Dean turned the key, cutting the engine and the softly playing music, but he made no move to get up. His eyes sweeping the interior of the car before falling on the open journal on the seat next to him. John’s last letter lay open, it’s black lettering harsh in the afternoon sun. Dean couldn’t help but pick out a few words as he zoned out on the paper.

_Kill_

_Don’t trust_

_Save Sam_

He rubbed his hands over his face roughly, a wave of tired anger making his skin itch. He grabbed at the door handle and jolted from the car as quickly as he could, away from the memories that threatened to overwhelm him again. His boots crunched against the gravel, head down low, as he pulled out his house key. He just wanted to be home, back with Robin, back in his life and away from the monsters that wanted to pull him back.

His door opened easily, and Dean took a deep breath of the familiar air eyes closed. It had taken him years to build this life, a girl he loved since school, a job he enjoyed. Fond memories of high school dances, and wrestling competitions. He made himself an apple pie life and the ghosts of his past weren’t going to ruin it for him now.

“Robin? Baby I’m home—” Dean removed his boots and jacket while craning his neck, trying to see if Robin was home. It was the middle of the afternoon, so it was unlikely, but Dean wanted nothing more than to wrap himself in her familiar arms after being away for so long.

“I’m in here”. Her soft voice echoed back, and Dean couldn’t help but smile. Grabbing a few beers from the fridge he meandered his way towards the living room, eager to put the past few days behind him.

“Hey baby, man you wouldn’t believe the past few days I’ve had. I’m so glad to be—” Dean stopped, his eyes blinking a few times trying to comprehend the scene in front of him.

Robin was in the living room, but there were two other gentlemen with her, both wearing black suits. They were standing next to her, matching smirks and black eyes. Dean took a step back before flicking his gaze back to Robin, a question on his lips.

“So, I take it my friends at the bar weren’t able to finish the job. Fine with me, more fun for me”. Robin smiled but it was cold, her eyes held a hard glint and when she blinked, they rapidly turned black. Dean licked his lips nervously and tried to shrug, his mind working overtime.

“What can I say—I’m like a cockroach—where’s Robin?” The woman in front of him pouted before giggling.

“Lover—Robin hasn’t been Robin since that first dance.” If Dean concentrated hard enough, he knew he could hear his mind splintering under the pressure of information. If he understood this **thing** correctly, he hasn’t been out of the game at all. He glanced about the room, trying to find his hidden weapons. He shifted his grip on the sweaty beer bottles in his hands and stared at the woman in front of him, eyes burning and threatening to blur from tears.

“Why?” She smirked and stood, slinking over to Dean, her hand coming to rest on his chest as she stood on her tippy toes to whisper in his ear.

“Because without you around, what was to stop Azazel’s favorite from falling into his arms?” The words barely registered as she pushed him with more strength than her frame would suggest. He crashed into the dining table, broken wood and splinters flying around him. The wind knocked out of him, Dean struggled to turn onto his side and crawl towards the bedroom, his shotgun just had to be there.

The feel of a heel imbedding itself in between his shoulder blades made him grunt in pain as he was held in place. “Now, now Dean—we’re just getting started. I can’t kill you yet, that’s up to Azazel. But you and I could have some fun before he comes.” A force pressed against his chest, flipping him up and off the floor and slamming him into the opposite wall. The two men that were with Robin were smiling at him, their black eyes glittering in glee as he shouted in pain. Dean felt his body slide upwards, feet barely touching the floor as an invisible force clamped itself around his throat.

He struggled to breathe, vision slowing going black. He tried to keep his eyes on the woman in front of him, his gaze blazing in anger and hurt.

“Wh—who are you?” Robin cocked her head to the side and ran a finger down his chest smiling.

“Well I’m Robin you silly—but if you mean before—well—Before I was called Meg.” The pressure on Dean’s throat increased, cutting off any reply he would have made, and Meg just giggled at him. Waving her arm in a general direction, Dean felt the force pull his body and he crashed against another wall in the living room, his head spinning. He coughed as the pressure on his throat eased and he scrambled to find some sort of weapon around him.

Two sets of heavy hands grabbed him by the shoulders and hauled him to his feet, Meg was standing in front of him, a knife from their kitchen in her hand. She played with it absently as Dean struggled in the goon’s grips. Dean could feel blood rolling down the side of his head and he hardened his gaze as he stared down the demon in front of him.

“Well—what are you waiting for—go ahead and kill me.” Meg laughed again and back handed Dean. If it wasn’t for the two demon’s holding him, he knew he would have gone flying again.

“You just don’t ever LISTEN! I told you, I can’t kill you—Azazel needs you—you’re just my toy until then”. She inched the knife against Dean’s rib cage, and he tried to school his breathing. The hard tip pressed uncomfortably against his skin and he closed his eyes, waiting for the pain. “Oh I’m really going to enjoy this Dean, having to spend **years** with you. Pretending to be that simpering little girl. It just killed me inside. It was so easy to, getting you to stay, getting you to forget your little brother. You fell for this, hook line and sinker.” The knife was trailing along his stomach as she spoke making his body shiver in anticipation. She frowned for a minute, knife pausing just beside his belly button. A steady pressure began to build and Dean winced as it slowly penetrated his skin. Blood welling up around the knife’s edge and soaking into his shirt. She glanced up at him, a soft smile playing on her face.

“I was your babysitter Dean, keep you away from your brother, let Azazel and Ruby get their claws in him. Prepare him for what’s to come. It was just icing on the cake when John—well—maybe that’s enough talk for now.” The knife twisted under his skin and Dean tried to pull away at the sharp stinging. He tried pulling out of his captor’s grip and Meg just laughed at him, knife making it’s way to the other side of his stomach to start a second cut, just as slow as the first.

“I’m good at dishing out pain Dean, though a little out of practice. Want to help me—baby?”


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One small decision can break up reality into a multiple different facets of a whole. One small difference can change the course of everything. Dean makes a different decision on that night at Sonny's farm, he watches his Dad drive away in the Impala with Sam. Watches as he breathes a sigh of relief of finally being free from the Hunters life. But nothing ever stays away in any lifetime. It's been years but a sudden letter pulls Dean back in. Pulls him back into the life he fought to leave and now he has to save his brother, if there's even anything left to save.
> 
> **AU reality based off of the episode Bad Boys 9x07, what would happen if Dean decided to stay?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Second fic in the SPN realm. I love my boys but also always want to explore new ways to torment them.
> 
> As always I do not own any of the characters or the world, this is written for pure enjoyment
> 
> **Sorry guys this one is shorter than normal but I have a few one shots bumping around in my brain and I can't get this one focused enough. I'll probably have another chapter up before the end of the week so look forward to that!
> 
> I'll be adding two new one shots, one for my Angst collection and one for my Smut so check those out too! Happy reading :)

* * *

~ _2 years ago ~_

Sam sat patiently on the bus bench as he watched the small garage across the street. A half-finished coffee rested on his knee, forgotten about when Dean pulled into the shop. Sam had been waiting a few days before getting this close, unsure on what he was going to see when he finally allowed himself the privilege of being this close. Sam had been basically stalking his older brother for a few days now, he’d seen Dean at home, at work, at the bar down the street. He remained in the shadows as he reacquainted himself with Dean’s familiar, yet strange presence.

He wasn’t sure how long he stayed today, watching as Dean worked on the cars that came in, laughing and joking with the people around him. A lightness in his voice, a carefree smile always gracing his lips. A twist of ugly envy turned in Sam’s stomach and he took that moment to leave, trying to ignore the hurtful thoughts in his mind as he stalked down the street.

‘_Did he even think about me? Worry? Wonder? Anything?’_

Course not, why would he? John got him out, got him free of the dark obsession of the Winchester clan. Hell he knew Dean didn’t even use the Winchester name anymore, preferred to remain as anonymous as possible with a name like Smith.

The ugly feelings remaining as Sam reached his hotel room, letting the door slam shut and throwing his jacket across the room. He felt foolish and stupid, he knew he shouldn’t have come here. He sat heavily on the bed in the room, head in his hands as a few hot tears escaped passed his clenched eyes. Sam cursed his moment of weakness, his want to see Dean, at least once before—well before whatever happened. Azazel’s message was clear, a choice was going to have to be made soon and he didn’t think he had the strength to choose correctly.

Sam turned his head slowly and eyed the Colt beside him on the bed, its dull and dirty metal a contrast against the bright comforter in the motel room. He stared at it, willing it to provide him with the answers he desperately sought before turning away and curling onto his side. Sam ignored the hunger pains and the beginning of a migraine. He clenched his fists between his thighs and rocked himself slowly until sleep eased in his mind and pulled him under into oblivion.

* * *

The cabin was tense as Ellen made dinner. Jo had re-bandaged Sam’s wounds from Dean and now they sat on the couch in silence. The events of the day catching up to the motley crew and exhausting their souls with the weight of loss. Ellen caught herself zoning out a few times and nearly burned the chicken in front of her, Jo finally coming up beside her to help after the smoke from the stove started to create a hazy fog in the room. Ellen gave her a weak smile before glancing at Sam on the couch. After a quick cleaning the beating he took didn’t seem that bad anymore, blood cleared away to show just a few bruises on his face. The swollen eye already starting to recede and he claimed he could see out of both eyes, albeit one was a little blurry.

Ash had his spare computer open, a few tracing and tracking programs running at once as he talked with Sam about the attack back at the bar. His face was a scowl of concentration as he did whatever it was he did to track their hunts and learn the lore. Ellen would never be able to pretend she understood half of what Sam and Ash would talk about late into the night. It was a fairly common occurrence to leave for bed and they’d still be talking, only to come back out in the morning and see they’ve barely moved. It had been a good day for all three of them when Sam showed up at the Roadhouse when he did.

“Ellen—I think most of the damage will be superficial, once I get my feet back under me, I should be able to fix up the Roadhouse in about a month, maybe two if I have to hunt.” Sam was looking at her, puppy dog eyes of shame glowing in the subdued lighting of the cabin. She shook her head and gave him a stern look.

“Boy don’t you even try to turn this into your fault, we don’t know what those things wanted or where they even came from. It was just a fact of life something was bound to find my bar again. Don’t push yourself to do something for me. The bar can wait, your health can not. Now come eat”. She sat with her own plate, a stony expression telling the younger man the conversation was closed. He gave her a grimace of a smile before coming to join her and Jo at the table. Ash had barely moved during the exchange, his eyes flickering across his glowing screen.

“Ash! Dinner included you, you know. Get over here before I dump that thing in the pond out back”. Ash gave a huff but didn’t move.

“Ellen, we both know that if you do that, we won’t be able to track what we need for Sam so he can kick some real monster ass. Now kindly, shush.” Ellen looked back at Sam who just sat, then over to Jo.

“Did that boy just shush me?”

“Let it go mom.” Ellen shook her head in slight disapproval but conceded on this, just too tired to argue with anyone. Her body longed for the bed in the other room and planned on stumbling over there as soon as this next awkward conversation was over. She gave a hesitant look at Sam who was picked at his plate. His eyes seemed distant and he was chewing on his bottom lip, reopening the scabbed over wound.

“Sam—“ He jerked at looked up at her guiltily. “Stop biting your lip, you’ll just make it worse. About Dean—“

“There is no ‘about Dean’ Ellen. There’s nothing to discuss.”

“Sam—don’t take that tone with me young man. Why didn’t you ever tell us you had a brother?” Sam’s eyes flashed angrily for a moment before dulling into an ache Ellen couldn’t describe. Jo stared at her plate with intense concentration, like the chicken was explaining the facts of the universe and Ash’s quiet typing stuttered to a halt. Sam sighed heavily and gave a grimace of a smile.

“I haven’t really thought about it in a very long time. My dad, John, he uh—he said he sent Dean away when we were younger to keep him safe. I was dangerous back then, and he wanted to keep his kid safe.” Ellen shook her head in sympathy even as her mind clouded with anger, whoever this kid’s father was, he’d better be glad he was dead.

“Sam, you aren’t dangerous, hell, what that man did to you—“

“What he did is not important anymore Ellen, it’s the past. Dean got out, he was able to stay out, and it’s going to stay that way.” Sam gave her a pointed look as he stabbed at his food. His body radiated tension and he rolled his neck trying to relieve some of the pressure beginning to build in his head.

“Sam—“ Jo’s tentative voice break some of the harsh tension as he stills in his seat, eyes burning with flashes of the past 24 hours forcing their way through his mind. “Sam—he’s your family, I thought you would be happy to have your family back.”

_He is not your brother, I am not your father_

“You guys are my family Jo—I don’t need or want anything else.”

“Well that’s not entirely true, now is it Sam?” The Harvelle’s and Ash jumped as an unfamiliar voice spoke up from the front porch. Sam barely flinched as he closed his eyes and dropped his head slightly towards his chest. Ellen stood, ready to grab the shotgun left by the stove as she eyed the stranger warily.

“Who the fuck are you?” The woman on the porch barely flicked her eyes at Ellen, instead she pulled the door open and stalked next to Sam’s chair and ran a hand through his limp brown hair.

“Sam, baby, what’d I tell you about blowing your load like that all in one place?” Sam jerked his head out of her grip and snarled.

“Shut up Ruby.” Jo made a funny noise in the back of her throat as she scrambled away from the table. Ruby flashed her an amused grin, eyes blinking black for a moment to tease the hunters around her before focusing back on Sam.

“Sam, you know you can’t keep functioning like this. Azazel is just going to keep coming after you until you say yes.” The cock of a gun made Sam jump and he glanced up to see Ellen with Jo and Ash on the other side of the room. Her steely eyes barely waivered as she sized up Ruby.

“Sam—honey, come over here now.”

“Yeah Sam—“ Ruby leaned in close and whispered hotly in his ear, “—go on over.” Sam growled and yanked his head away from her but otherwise did not move. Ash looked between you two, a slow horror filled realization started to lighten his eyes and he placed a hand on Ellen’s arm.

“Sam, buddy, let’s not do anything to hasty alright?” Ruby let out a fake gasp and leaned against the table, folding her arms before smirking.

“Uh-oh Sam, I think one of your little family members is starting to get it.” Ellen leaned her head towards Ash, refusing to let Ruby out of her sights.

“Get what, Ash? What’s she talking about?” Sam’s hands were clenched tightly against his thighs under the table, he was staring at the three of them now, his eyes bright in desperation.

“Ash—please don’t—“ The man didn’t listen, instead he pull Jo farther behind him and tried to tug on Ellen towards the back door.

“The-their working together Ellen—Sam’s working for a demon.” The accusation hung thickly in the air and Sam’s shoulders hunched in on his giant frame. He waited to hear the echo of a gun shot, the burning pain of pellets pounding into his skin—but when there was only silence he chanced a glance at his impromptu family.

Ellen had lowered the gun slightly, her eyes bright with unshed tears and swirling questions. Jo was avoiding his gaze, her eyes downcast as she bit her lower lip; Ash stared right back at him, fear and a slight twinge of anger radiating from his slight frame. Ellen spoke first, her voice broken with emotion.

“Tell me it isn’t true Sam—tell me—“ Ruby cut her off with a wave of her hand as she laughed.

“Of course it’s true momma Harvelle. Sam here, well he’s been one of ours since the beginning. But you’ve known that—you’re not that stupid.” Ellen shot an accusing glare at Ruby and re-raised her weapon until it was lined up with the demons face.

“Shut your mouth or I’ll do it for you.” Ruby merely rolled her eyes before glancing back down at Sam.

“Sam—we don’t have time for this. Instead of being the good little solider like you should be, you’re fighting the boss and wasting the time and energy I put into you. Now we can do this the easy way, or the hard way, your choice.” Sam shook his head and stood walking away from Ruby before he was standing between her and his family.

“No Ruby—I told you last time, I’m done. I’m out, and I’m done. Eventually Azazel will get that through his skull, or I’ll just have to fucking kill him.” Ruby picked at her nails for a moment, almost in lazy indifference before waving her hand, sending Sam flying through the air and pinning him against the far wall. Jo and Ellen shouted out for him before they were also stopped and forced to their knees on the floor along with Ash.

“Sam, Sam, Sam. I tried to be nice, I really did. I mean for a while there you were a great fuck.” She winked at Ellen before walking over to Sam’s struggling form. “You have so much potential, a destiny is awaiting you Sam. You can’t keep denying who you are.” Sam’s skin was turning red from straining against the invisible bonds, his eyes bright with anger as he stared down at Ruby.

“I—I never wanted this. ANY of it!” Ruby patted his cheek and pouted condescendingly.

“I know baby, I know. But it’s yours anyway. You just forget sometimes, but that’s alright, let me remind you why you don’t belong here.” Ruby turned to stare at Ellen, a slow cruel smile playing on her lips as she sauntered over. Sam struggled harder, shouting at the demon to stop. Ruby cocked her head slightly, almost as if listening before laughing quietly.

“It is a little ironic Mrs. Harvelle, the situation you’ve found yourself in. You used to hate all things that go bump in the night, especially after your husband died.” Ellen heard Jo’s soft grow of anger and wished she could turn to her daughter, to offer some form of comfort before they inevitably died.

“We demon’s told stories of your fury, how you tracked down what happened that night. Spoke to anyone who was willing. Driving yourself into the ground if you had to, just to find out what happened to your dear, dear husband.” Ruby crouched until she was eye to eye with Ellen, her eyes blinked black and Ruby smiled at Ellen’s flinch. “You were **_devastated _**when you found out that it wasn’t some monster that killed him, not really, no what killed him was nothing more than the reckless and careless actions of another hunter. One you thought you could trust, one that, if you could, you’d kill the moment you saw him.” Ellen tried to ignore the pain this demon was rising out of her, afraid and unsure as to why she was dredging up the past. Ruby grabbed Ellen’s chin and forced her to look over at Sam, her chin held tightly as Ruby whispered in her ear.

“Isn’t it just ironic, that you take in the son of the man you’ve sworn vengeance on? It’s just a sad, poetic, truth that you’ve been harboring and loving John Winchester’s son.”


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One small decision can break up reality into a multiple different facets of a whole. One small difference can change the course of everything. Dean makes a different decision on that night at Sonny's farm, he watches his Dad drive away in the Impala with Sam. Watches as he breathes a sigh of relief of finally being free from the Hunters life. But nothing ever stays away in any lifetime. It's been years but a sudden letter pulls Dean back in. Pulls him back into the life he fought to leave and now he has to save his brother, if there's even anything left to save.
> 
> **AU reality based off of the episode Bad Boys 9x07, what would happen if Dean decided to stay?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi ya'll, please don't hate me ^_^ Sorry this is so late but things got a bit hectic and I've got so many plot bunnies running around it's hard to keep things straight. Here's the update I promised like 2 weeks ago and if the muses are kind I'll have another up for you tomorrow!
> 
> As always I do not own SPN or their characters, I just like to play with them.

* * *

_~ 6 Months ago ~_

_“John Winchester—as I live and breathe” Azazel smirked at the older hunter as he was pushed to his knees on the warehouse floor. Two demons stood on either side of him, smirking at his struggling form._

_“I’m going to kill you, you sonofabitch,” John muttered as he struggled to against an invisible restraint against his body. John’s eyes flared in anger as he stared up at Yellow Eyes, the demon that had haunted his life for far too damn long. “Just you wait you stupid piece of shit, I will end you.”_

_Azazel smiled at him condescendingly before turning his back and taking a few steps towards the low wooden table that was previously set up before John arrived._

_“Now John, I’d like to have a civil conversation with you, after all, we are both adults. However, if you can’t keep the name-calling to a minimum I’ll have to take certain measures to shut you up, and oh I’d hate to do that.” Azazel turned his head and flashed John a smile, his yellow eyes blazing for a moment in mockery. John just glared back, mouth firmly set in a deep frown. Azazel gave him another patronizing smile before turning back to the table and the row of instruments laid out for him._

_“I suppose it is a good thing we’ve met now, I do have a schedule to keep and it’s just so much more convenient when I can be ahead of schedule.” He picks up a thin hunting knife, admiring its steely glow in the dim fluorescent lights. “You see, everything has just about clicked into place Johnny. My favorite contender should be killing off the last of the ramble I created as we speak, and once he does, he’ll be ready to take his place.”_

_“Takes his place as what you raging psychopath?” John spit at him, eyes calculating the demon in front of him like he had a chance in hell of doing anything. Azazel merely hummed quietly to himself as he inspected the blade a moment more before setting it back down and grabbing a smaller one._

_“Now, I know generally when you deal with your monster hunts, they give you some sort of monologue on their life, their plans or ambitions if you will.” He scrunched his nose slightly as he stepped back towards the hunter and kneeled in front of him. “You’ll have to forgive me if we skip that part, not a lot of patience in the whole ‘evil villain rant’ part of this story.” John tensed as he felt the edge of the small knife rested just below his eye and he swallowed heavily._

_“What do you want?” Azazel smiled, tapped the blade against John’s cheek and clicked his tongue._

_“I want a great many things John Winchester. I want to make sure you know that your son is the way of the future for all demon-kind. The training I and others like me gave him, as well as your own ‘special regime’ honed him into the perfect fighting machine. I want to make sure you know that before the year is out, the Winchester line will be dead, first you, then Dean-boy, oh yes we know where Dean is. He hasn’t been far from us for many, many years. Then Sammy—our dear sweet boy, he’ll be what Hell intends him to be.” A sharp slicing pain made John winced as his head pounded in denial from Azazel’s words. He wanted to surge forward, to wrap is large hands around the Demon’s neck and squeeze until the eyes popped out._

_“But first what I really want, what will really make this grand plan complete, is the stupid gun.” Azazel paused, the knife inching closer to John’s eye. “Where’s the Colt John?”_

* * *

_~ Present Day ~_

Dean wasn’t really sure how long he’d been suspended from the ceiling, or strapped to the chair, or even just lying on the floor. He did know he was in pain. Blood was making the remnants of his clothes stick to his body and a pounding headache was making it difficult to concentrate on the taunting words of Meg behind him.

“Dean baby, our time is almost up. I don’t know about you but I’ve had just a fantastic time releasing all this stress.” He felt her warm body press against his raw back and he bit his tongue roughly to stop the gasp of pain. “Now—I know you’re a stubborn ass went you want to be, but I really need you to answer me, baby. Where is the colt?” Dean spat out a mouthful of blood as Meg’s hands slid up and down his chest, her nails dragging against his tender flesh.

“Darlin—you can just go straight to hell.” He tensed, ready for the pain from his comment but just startled when she sighed and moved away from him

“You really are a stubborn jackass. Nowhere near as stubborn as your brother, but, you didn’t stick around for the famous John Winchester boot camp. The things your father did to ‘_train’ _your little brother—tsk tsk tsk—“. He could see Meg as she walked around his dangling frame, she was shaking her head in mock sympathy while crossing her arms over her chest. “Dean-o you should count yourself lucky you’ve been slumming it up with my demon ass.”

This wasn’t the first time she threw his choices in his face. A recurring theme of the torture had been reminding him exactly what his selfishness had cost him, what his single choice had done to his little brother, the one he was supposed to protect. A new wave of guilt and shame crashed into him and he tried to keep the pain hidden as he stared down the woman in front of him. A strong sense of hopelessness had been blanketing over him for a while now and he clenched his teeth as he tried to struggle out of his bonds.

It was quiet in the living room for a few moments, ex-hunter and demon just watching each other with a critical eye when a text chime broke the tense silence. Meg’s mouth slowly curled into a smile as she grabbed the cell from Dean’s jean pocket. She glanced at the screen for just a moment before cocking an eyebrow and smirking back at Dean.

“Well—this was fun lover, but it’s time for me to jet. Don’t worry, it’s not you, it’s me. Let’s still be friends yeah?” She leaned up on her toes to smack a wet kiss against his cheek before sauntering to the kitchen. When she returned she had slung her coat over her shoulders and was typing a reply back on his phone. “I’d like to leave you as is, let you have a false hope of being able to save dear Sammy, but I’m afraid that’s just not in our dance card this prom. I’ll be sure to leave him a message though.” Dean’s brain was on overdrive as he tried to pull against the rough ropes holding him in place.

“Tho-thought you needed info, what, you give up that easily?” His bravado would have felt more real if his voice hadn’t of cracked in slight panic. Meg let out a harsh bark of laughter before stepping close to him, her chest flush with his.

“Sweetheart I got all the info I need right here.” Raising the phone slowly, it took Dean a minute to get his eyes to focus on the tiny screen.

**Text: Unknown number**

**We got it.**

Dean tried to pull free, to yank his arms down and strangle the bitch in front of him but Meg just laughed as she took a few steps back.

“Baby brother is about to become one of the most powerful beings on the planet, you should be proud big brother. Sadly you won’t live long enough to see it.” Dean watched as Meg raised the shotgun from the bedroom, her eyes flashing black as she leveled her sight on his chest. He could feel his breath coming in short gasps and he did the last thing he’d ever do, he prayed.

’_Please, if you are listening. Please keep my brother safe, please stop this demon bitch. God please—‘_

“By Dean-o it’s been fun”. Dean clenched his eyes, waiting for the loud pop of the shotgun and the searing pain. He braced himself for impact even as he kept his fervent prayer on loop, just begging for help. He expected pain, he expected sudden darkness, what he didn’t expect was a high pitched whining following by a bright light that burned his eyes even behind his closed eyelids. He tried turning his head away even with the sound of Meg’s screams echoing in his ears.

After a few minutes, the light died back down and it was silent, he blinked a few times to clear the spots in his vision before he turned to look where Meg had been standing a few moments ago. Instead, he saw the crumpled form of Robin on the floor, blood trailing from her ears, eyes burned from their sockets. Dean swallowed roughly as he let his gaze raise slightly to take in the stranger that now stood in the doorway of his home. A shorter man with ruffled black hair wearing a trench coat. Dean cleared his throat and smiled almost nervously.

“So—uh—who are you?” The man cocked his head to the side slightly almost in a puppy dog confused way.

“Castiel”

“You don’t say”.

“I’m an Angel of the Lord.” Dean couldn’t stop the snort from escaping as he shook his head.

“Get the hell out of here. There’s no such thing.” Castiel looked at him disapprovingly as he strode into the room.

“This is your problem Dean. You have no faith.” The man raised two fingers to Dean’s forehead and before he could protest, he felt a warm flush run over his body. Almost like a hot bath was washing away the aches and pains of the past few hours. After a second he blinked and the ropes were removed, his face no longer felt swollen, and when he looked down his skin was whole again with no signs of blood. He looked back at Castiel, wary awe shining in his eyes.

“Why would an angel rescue me?”

“Good things do happen Dean.” Again, Dean could not hold back the snort from bubbling past his lips.

“Not in my experience.”

“What’s the matter? You don’t think you deserve to be saved?” Dean let his eyes drop to the floor as he thought about Sam, his little brother, alone in the world for the past 11 years.

“Why’d you do it?” The guilt coloring his voice as he shoved his hands in his pockets while staring at the body of his ex-girlfriend. Castiel raised a hand and rested his heavily on Dean’s shoulder, his piercing blue eyes full of righteous conviction.

“Because God commanded it. Because we have work for you”.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One small decision can break up reality into a multiple different facets of a whole. One small difference can change the course of everything. Dean makes a different decision on that night at Sonny's farm, he watches his Dad drive away in the Impala with Sam. Watches as he breathes a sigh of relief of finally being free from the Hunters life. But nothing ever stays away in any lifetime. It's been years but a sudden letter pulls Dean back in. Pulls him back into the life he fought to leave and now he has to save his brother, if there's even anything left to save.
> 
> **AU reality based off of the episode Bad Boys 9x07, what would happen if Dean decided to stay?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ***WARNING***  
This chapter is literally just a flashback for the noncon/rape. It is not totally necessary to read to follow the story. I'll have a toned-down recap at the beginning of our final chapter (yep Chapter 11 will be it folks!)
> 
> If you are not interested in the grimy/steamy bit then please feel free to just not read this chapter. Also I did write this a little distracted due to needy family members so if you find any errors let me know!
> 
> As always I do not own SPN or the characters, I just like to play with them.

* * *

~ _3 weeks ago ~_

_Azazel smiled softly to himself as he watched his Boy King. Over the years he’d watched the scrawny child grow, watched as he hardened under his father’s tutelage but flourished with his powers. He hadn’t expected being able to mold the boy so easily, hadn’t expected the pure gift that was one Samuel Winchester._

_Sam was currently sparing with Ruby, sweat was glistening off of his bare back as he avoided her jabs and calculated the situation around him. Their soft grunts the only noise in the darkened warehouse. Other demons sat or stood on the sides, watching their King with rapt black eyes. ‘Yes,’ Azazel thought, ‘He’s the perfect choice’. Briefly catching Ruby’s eye, he gave a lazy nod before sipping at his whiskey. She gave a tight smile in return before focusing back on Sam, her objective changing as she started to unleash her demon powers. A particularly dirty jab to the ribs sent Sam stumbling as his bones cracked under the superhuman strength. His own eyes flashed dangerously and Ruby rolled her shoulders._

_“C’mon Sammy, let’s see what you can really do, unless you need Daddy’s help again—“ Anger flared hot in Sam’s veins and he barreled into her, pure fury driving his actions. She countered him easily and sent him back to the floor again with a push. “That’s it?! Seriously Sam, no wonder you needed Daddy for so long. If you can’t handle just one little ‘ol demon—“ His breaths came out in harsh punches as he rolled his neck and stood back on his feet. For a moment Azazel saw a flicker of black in his eyes and he smiled again._

_“I don’t need anyone. I just play by the rules Ruby.” She gave him a mock sympathy pout before they started to circle one another again._

_“Aww, did the bad demon break the rules Sammy? Are you gonna tattle on me?” They rushed each other and clashed in the middle of the impromptu sparing circle. Hands met each other as they clenched, palm to palm, trying to force the other onto their knees. “Do it Sammy, you know you want to submit, just do it.” He stared hard into her face, anger and pride clouding his judgement until he felt his own powers slowly crawling to the forefront of his mind. He grabbed the dark tendrils with ease before smiling back at her, eyes flickering black to the surrounding demons amusement._

_“You want submission Ruby, think you can crush me under your cheap Walmart heels?” He released one of her hands to quickly backhand her, using his remaining grip to yank her back towards him from the force, his free hand gripping her throat tightly. A trail of blood escaped from her lip and before Sam could think about what he was doing, he leaned forward and licked the blood clean. A tiny zing of electricity coursed through his veins and he could barely hold in the moan that rumbled in his chest._

_“I’m fucking sick and tired of your games Ruby.” The pulsing cords of his power echoed in the empty space around them and with little effort he forced the demon bitch to her knees in front of him. “You want submission? I don’t think so, how bout I remind you **exactly **where demon bitches like you belong.” He was lost to it now, the coursing power and strength in his veins sang as he let himself fall over the edge. The strange combination of lust and invincibility blocking out his reasonable thinking as he unzipped his jeans._

_Azazel sucked his lower lip between his teeth as he watched the scene unfold in front of him. Slowly the other demons around them inched closer, their empty eyes watching with perverse glee and sadistic pleasure. Azazel watched as Ruby gave up a token of resistance before sticking her tongue out to run over his hot erection. Her face blotchy from his grip on her neck, looked up at Sam with barely concealed reverence. She took the head of his cock in her mouth and Sam threw his head back with a guttural moan as she swirled her tongue around the sensitive flesh. His hand shifted from his throat to her long hair, loosely wrapping the strands around his fingers as he gently guided her down his length. Azazel scoffed quietly before weaving past the crowd until he was standing right behind Sam, his fingers ghosting over his shoulder blades._

_“She’s not made of glass Sam. Use her, fuck her like you want to.” Azazel leaned in a little closer, his breath ghosting past Sam’s ear making the young hunter pant a little heavier. “If you enjoy the noises she’s making now, just wait until she’s gagging on your dick”. The demon could see the blood in Sam’s system, could see the darkness fighting against Sam’s natural light to be the dominating power over this young man. Any other given day, any other measly human, Azazel would have enjoyed watching the intricate dance of a human’s fall from grace. He got off watching the nature innocence finally give in to the seduction of evil. However today has a goal, today has a promised outcome, and Azazel doesn’t always like to play fair._

_With barely a thought, Azazel summons a small blade and cuts a deep line across one of his wrists and holds it tantalizingly close to Sam’s mouth. He leaves hot open mouth kisses along Sam’s back and he can feel his Boy King slowly start to thrust his hips up into Ruby’s hot mouth._

_“Drink Sam, go on. Be my good boy Sammy, ahhh—“ The sudden brush of a tongue before lips encase the open wound make Azazel close his eyes in ecstasy. He can feel the boy pull the blood from his meatsuit and he grows hard as the tongue dances across the skin, coaxing more blood to the surface. Sam is thrusting into Ruby in earnest now, little moans and whines of a pleasure/pain mixture urging him faster. Azazel can’t help himself as he lets his other hand wander down Sam’s side and across his hard stomach. He runs his blunt nails across the sensitive flesh about his dick before rutting his own erection against Sam’s jean covered ass._

_“Such a good boy for me Sammy, always been such a good boy. That’s it, drink Sam, suck it down. Feel Ruby take your cock. Feel how her tongue licks and tortures you. Ummpf, such a good boy for me.” Azazel is panting a little now as he fondles Sam through the jeans. His own erection growing uncomfortable in the confines of his slacks. Sam has pulled away from Azazel’s bleeding arm now, his eyes closed in pleasure as his head tilts back with a moan. The demon runs his fingers through the sweat soaked hair, yanking his head back further until it rests on Azazel’s shoulder._

_“That’s it Sam, feel it wash over you, the power meant for you, feel it consume you. Relax Sammy, I’m going to make you feel so good. Such a good boy for me.” Azazel had lowered Sam’s jeans with Ruby’s help, the kid so far lost in blood lust he hadn’t even noticed he’d released Ruby’s hair to instead grab at the gyrating hips against his ass. Slowly Azazel was circling Sam’s puckered hole with his fingers, adrenaline and lust waring in Azazel’s actions as he fought to remain slow and light. With greater ease than he felt, slowly he breeched the man and guttered a groan of his own before biting roughly at Sam’s ear._

_“So damn tight my King. So hot Sammy, gonna fill this hole real well for you. Gonna take you a part tonight my little Sammy.” Sam could hear Azazel muttering filth in his ear and a small part of him struggled against the blood coursing in his veins. A part that was still a 12 year old kid who wished he could see his older brother’s smile again, feel the roar of the Impala as his Dad let’er rip down country roads. He shuddered for a moment and turned his head away from the moist breath on his neck._

_“No—“ The fingers in his scalp tightened marginally and Azazel hissed in Sam’s hear. The finger in Sam’s ass curled cruelly and a blunt nail scrapped against the tender skin inside. He jerk his hips, the haze starting to lift from his mind and he tried to struggle out from between the two demons. “Enough—stop—get off—“ Ruby chuckled before taking his length in her mouth again and sucked hard._

_“Sammy boy, you don’t want that—just let it go, let us service you my King.” Sam could feel cold fingers whisper over his wrists before they were yanked cruelly towards the ceiling, his body thrummed with the blood of Azazel and the lust of his own damn weakness. He pulled against the force holding him but the hazy recollection of his self was quickly retreating behind the dark haze in his mind._

_Sam felt a second finger being added to the first and they twisted inside causing his dick to jump in Ruby’s mouth. The fingers reached and twisted as Azazel’s other hand held his prone form firmly against the demon’s chest. Sam let his eyes wander the warehouse, taking in the faceless bodies of demons around him. He could see their mouths moving in silent jeers and taunts. Their eyes glittering with excitement. Sam could feel his humanity cracking under the strain, his eyes burned as unshed tears started to form. Another plea on his lips faded way as Azazel finally curled just right to hit that traitorous bundle of nerves and stars appeared in his sight. The loud moaning cry tore from his throat and the last vestiges of sanity faded away as the blood overpowered him once again._

_His hips canted back and forth, trying to get as much friction as he could from the wet heat on his dick and the pleasant burn in his ass. Vaguely he could hear himself begging as Azazel let bite marks and bloody welts across his back. Ruby’s hands were snaking up and raking her nails down across his stomach as she took him to the root and moaned around his length._

_“Gah—pl—please, please just—god—please”_

_“Please what Sammy?” Sweat was dripping down his forehead as he watched Ruby’s lips stretch obscenely around his length. He felt Azazel’s large hand grasp his hip, restricting his movement and a moan in frustration made him clack his teeth together as he squeezed his eyes shut._

_“Please fuck me, Azazel, master pl—please. I need your cock Az, please—“ He felt the demon grin against his skin as the fingers were removed from his swollen ass and a larger, much hotter feeling was now pushing against his dry hole._

_“As you command my king.”_

_The stretch **burned** and Sam’s breath was stolen from his lungs as the demon slowly penetrated him with too little preparation and no lubrication. He whimper and squirmed but the tight grip on his hips kept him immobile as the large dick breeched slowly in his ass. The burning pain sung to the blood in his veins and he opened his eyes to the crowd around him, wanton moans and gasps echoed in his ears as Azazel started to pick up a rhythm, little piston movements as he inched further inside until he was flush, ass to balls, with Sam. He barely waited a moment for Sam to adjust before pulling partially out and ramming without mercy back in, causing Sam to thrust his dick into Ruby’s awaiting mouth. He was surrounded by sensations, the wet heat on his cock, the burning fissures running from his ass to his spine. The calls and whistles from the demons around him, he was drowning in a sea of darkness._

_“That’s it Sammy, feel my dick in you. Like how I fill you up? Such a good boy for me Sammy. So hot and tight, so perfect Sammy boy. I’m gonna make you scream my name before we’re done.” Sam didn’t doubt Azazel, didn’t doubt before this night was done he was going to be sore for a week. For now he just didn’t give a fucking damn, the dick inside him was pounding into his prostate expertly and the tongue below him lapped at the slit of his dick with a steady firmness._

_He could feel his orgasm rising, the heat coiling in his stomach as he tried snapping his hips backwards to take the dick deeper. He could feel Azazel biting into his shoulder, blood running down his bare skin. He knew the older demon was close, could feel it in the power that was surging around them and he flexed his hands in the wavering restraints above his head. Ruby removed her mouth for a moment and looked up at Sam, her hand quickly jacking the red skin as she panted below him._

_“Cum for us Sam, Let it go, let me taste you.” Another thrust inside, a twist of her wrist, and suddenly Sam’s vision went white. The coil in his stomach expanding to a red hot cloud as his release punched out of his gut with force. He was screaming as Azazel continued to pound into him, extending and intensifying Sam’s orgasm. He felt hot release in his ass as he rode the waves back down. The blood lust satiated, his body spent. Gently as he came down, the watching demons filtered out of the warehouse, content with the display from Azazel’s pupil. A new story was to be told this night, the Boy King would rise, the Boy King of Hell had come._

_Azazel and Ruby lowered Sam to the floor, jeans still around his thighs. He stared down at the sexed out hunter, smiling coldly at the hazy gaze staring back at him. The boy was theirs now. The claim of Hell completed and the ash and sulfur ran in Sam’s veins almost as thickly as he ran in his very own._

_“Rest now my King, you army will await you.” He turned to leave, Ruby close behind when they both stopped at the quiet chuckle. He turned, curious, and squinted slightly at Sam’s form as it struggled to turn over._

_“You call me a King Az—yo—you’re Boy King—“ Sam spit the rising bile from his mouth as he raised his eyes to stare at the yellow eyed demon. “You don’t want a King, you want a puppet. I—I won’t be your puppet Azazel—not now, not ever. The next time I see you, I will kill you.”_

_Azazel just smiled and gave Sam a wink._

_“Guess I’ll just have to make sure I see you first. Oh, before I forget, your Father said hello. Good night, Sam.”_


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One small decision can break up reality into a multiple different facets of a whole. One small difference can change the course of everything. Dean makes a different decision on that night at Sonny's farm, he watches his Dad drive away in the Impala with Sam. Watches as he breathes a sigh of relief of finally being free from the Hunters life. But nothing ever stays away in any lifetime. It's been years but a sudden letter pulls Dean back in. Pulls him back into the life he fought to leave and now he has to save his brother, if there's even anything left to save.
> 
> **AU reality based off of the episode Bad Boys 9x07, what would happen if Dean decided to stay?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh boy... so I intended to finish this with this chapter. But the boys just wouldn't let the plot bunny go. I think only one more should do it but don't quote me :)
> 
> As always I do not own anything Supernatural, I just like to play with it

* * *

** _Carry on my wayward son---_ **

** _The Road So Far…_ **

_Ruby cocked her head slightly, almost as if listening before laughing quietly._

_“Isn’t it just ironic, that you take in the son of the man you’ve sworn vengeance on? It’s just sad, poetic, truth that you’ve been harboring and loving John Winchester’s son.”_

_~~~~~~_

_“Why would an angel rescue me”?_

_“Good things do happen Dean.” Again, Dean could not hold back the snort from bubbling past his lips._

_“Why’d you do it?”_

_“Because God commanded it. Because we have work for you”._

* * *

Dean watched as the bloody sun slowly set over the far horizon. The dying light washing the city below in a fiery haze as he slowly drank the warm beer. His mind was a loud chaotic scramble of half formed thoughts and feelings as he tried to come to terms with everything that had happened in the past 24 hours.

_I am an Angel of the Lord._

_Because we have work for you_

Dean squeezed his eyes shut and hung his head, a heavy weight settling on his shoulders with grim determination. If the thing that came into his home and saved him was to be trusted—if it really was what it said it was—well, there’s no arguing with that then is there. He tried to ignore the conversation he had no less than a few hours ago but snippets kept invading his chaotic mind, fueling the slowly growing panic.

_“Alright, look, even if you are what you say you are—what could I possibly do to stop this demon horde and its King?” Castiel looked at Dean with a sort of patient condescending look as he watched the man gather his clothes and spare weapons from around the abandoned apartment._

_“Dean—it is not our place to question the word of our Father, I was told you would be of use and to find you. When you prayed, when you called out, I came. We have work for you and we don’t have time to waste with asinine questions.” Dean snorted as worked around the immobile man as his eyes did a final sweep of his home, steadfastly ignoring Robin’s cooling corpse in the living room. His heart was still beating painfully and he tried to ignore the crushing despair at lie that has been his life for the past decade._

_“Fine Angel-man, where am I going and what am I killing?” He zipped up his worn duffle and stared at Castiel expectedly for a moment._

_“We need to go to southern Wyoming—there is something gathering there. I believe the demon’s prodigy Boy King will be opening a gate to hell very soon. This will unleash a horde of demons unlike any you’ve ever seen.” Dean just shook his head as he slung the bag over his shoulder and started for the front door._

_“Okay buddy, first off, I’ve never seen a horde of demons so I have no comparison to this apocalyptic event you’re hinting at. Second, ‘southern Wyoming’? Really? You can’t be a little more specific than that? I mean, you know it’s a big ass state right?” Dean half jogged down the stairs without turning around, assuming the Angel was following in his footsteps._

_“Something is blocking us from seeing, I can’t get more information, Dean, it is imperative you get to this gate and stop the King. By any means necessary.” He waved a hand absently behind him before grabbing the keys for the Impala. His head spinning with an uncomfortable weight and fear. Tossing the bag in the backseat he turned and glared at the Angel before shaking his head._

_“For an all-knowing Angel, you really are clueless.” Castiel cocked his head again and watched the man get into the black car._

_“I do not understand, I have provided you with clues so I am clearly not clueless.” Dean blinked at him absently for a second—unsure if the being was joking or not. When all he saw was a blank stare he shook his head exasperated._

_“Forget it, I’ll figure this out. Are you getting in or what?” Castiel stepped back and shook his head._

_“I have other business to attend to, once you find the gate, pray for me and I will come.” There was a faint sound of wings and a small push of air, then he was gone. Dean stared at the empty spot for a moment before slamming the door with a curse and prepared to drive away from his home, for the last time. He looked up at the dark window that he knew belonged to his living room. His eyes misted over for a moment as he whispered a quiet goodbye before reversing from his spot and driving away._

The bottle in his hand has long ago drained dry as twilight grew around him. He rubbed at the sticky label absently as he twiddled with his phone in his other hand. He sat for a while longer debating with himself before finally dialing a familiar number. He waited, breath caught in his throat before a voicemail finally answered.

“You’ve reached Sonny’s Farm and Home for Boys. If you have an emergency please call 911. Anyone else please leave a message at the tone and we’ll respond once we’re able. Thanks for callin’ and have a great day”.

Dean blew out his breath in a quick gust and nervously chuckled into the phone.

“H-hey Sonny, it’s Dean. I uh, damn, I don’t really know where to begin with this. Robin has—well Robin’s gone. It’s too hard to explain, just trust me on this. I hafta go away for a while and I don’t know when I’ll be back. I don’t want you to worry about me ok man? This is just something I have to do and I don’t know how long it’s gonna take me. I’ll try to keep in touch man, and just—thanks, thanks for everything.” Dean ended the call quickly, emotions thickening in his chest and he rubbed at his eyes violently. Before he could dwell too long on his darkening mood, Dean flipped through his Dad’s journal next to him, stopping when he saw a familiar name. He dialed the long forgotten number and rubbed at his forehead while the phone rang again.

“Singers Salvage, Bobby here.” Dean drew in a shaky breath and huffed into the phone.

“Hey Bobby—it’s Dean Winchester, you might not rememb—“

“Dean? Son, is that really you? Where the hell you been?” Bobby’s gruff tone and sincere surprise made Dean smile and he felt himself relaxing slightly as the memory faded voice soothed his nerves.

“Yeah Bobby it’s me. I uh—well, it’s a long story. Look I need your help. What do you know about a gate in Wyoming?” Dean heard the faint sounds of paper shuffling in the background before Bobby spoke again.

“Ya mean the Devil’s gate? Boy what have you got yourself into?” The concern dripped through and Dean cocked a half smile.

“You know us Winchesters—if it ain’t big, it ain’t worth it. So, what can you tell me about it?” Dean sat patiently as he listened to the brief history lesson from the old man. He tried not to roll his eyes when he would go off on a tangent about record keeping and dumbass hunters meddlin’ where they didn’t belong. Finally when Bobby stopped to take a breath Dean cut in.

“Yeah that’s great and all old man, but I need to know where it is. Something ugly is comin’ and I gotta stop it.” Bobby snorted from the other end and laughed.

“What dumbass nonsense have you caught onto boy?”

“What do you know about the demon’s Boy King?” After a beat of silence, Bobby said,

“Boy, you better start from the beginnin’ then get yer ass over here.”

* * *

Ellen was sure at some point God had turned the sound off on the world. She watched with a detached fascination as the demon, Ruby, stood in front of Sam and his eyes slowly dimmed in pain. The static radio noise in her head gave way once or twice, allowing small snipits of the conversation to filter in, but mostly she just heard the hollow mocking words.

_John Winchester’s son_

Ellen had watched Sam, his face slowly closing off as his eyes drifted to stare at the floor. At first she refused to believe it, didn’t walk to think the tall teenager that had stumbled into her bar one night—no into her family—

Well there was no ignoring it now.

“Mom—mom you with me?” Jo was whispering fervently in her ear, her daughter’s eyes wide and bright with unshed tears. “C’mon Mom—what’re we gonna do?”

“Oh sweetheart, you and your momma there are just going to stay the fuck still, and quiet. Sam and I are having an adult conversation.” Ruby’s black glittering eyes focused harshly on Jo who flinch and shut her mouth. The demon bitches smile was all teeth as she stared down the others before turning back to Sam.

“Now then, Sam, you know old Azazel is a very patient man. But I’m afraid you’ve reach the end of his patience. We know you have the colt, we know you’ve been hiding it and he is not impressed. I believe the words he used was ‘a re-education in loyalty and blood’.” Ellen watched as Sam’s skin paled slightly and he closed his eyes in a pained resignation. She struggled silently against the tight invisible bonds on her body but was unable to wiggle more than an inch. She could feel Ash and Jo beside her, their near silent grunts as they tried to free themselves as well seemed to be just as successful. Her awareness jolted back to Sam when she heard his desperate plea. Ruby had Sam on his knees now, his arms painfully wrenched behind is back. She had entangled her hand in his hair, head forced painfully back and she watched in horror as she tipped a small vile filled with blood into his mouth.

“Don’t worry Sammy, only the good stuff. Azazel sends his regards and looks forward to seeing you again.” Ruby smiled viciously as the blood disappeared down his throat, the muscles working convulsively against her invisible grip against his skin. She released him quickly once she felt the first tremor of demon influence wash over his mind. She watched with demon sight in fascination as the previously weakened darkness of his soul grew from Azazel’s donation and shrouded the light in poisonous darkness. She released her old over him fully now and watched as he slowly stood, eyes closed with a pained expression on his face. She could practically hear his warring thoughts as the darkness stamped down the last bit of humanity within. Biting her lip in sudden arousal at the power that emanated from him, Ruby kneeled at his feet, head downcast in reverence.

“My King—“ Ruby sighed, her voice a breathy whisper to Ellen’s ears as she watched with veiled horror at Sam. His body tensed, large frame heaving as he drew in deep breaths. His hands clenched in tight fists at his sides. Ellen could feel the demon hold over her slowly melt off, like oil slick slipping from her body and she trembled slightly as she grabbed onto Jo’s hand.

“S—Sam?” His eyes snapped open and Ellen flinched at the hard gaze. Her own eyes squinted in pain at the young man in front of them. His normally expressive face closed off coldly, mouth turned down into a hard frown. She glanced into his eyes and clenched Jo’s hand in fear, Ash’s own arms surrounding her in an attempt to shield her. The empty stare of swirling yellow eyes watched them impassively. His body radiated a dark power that Ellen could feel on the hairs of her skin and the deeply engrained, nearly forgotten habit of prayer wormed its way in her mind as she silently begged for help. The three humans flinched as Sam’s deep timber voice broke the silence.

“In the charger—compartment under the driver’s seat. Take it and go, I will follow in a moment.” He didn’t spare Ruby’s retreating form a glance as she left the cabin. Yellow eyes trained on the cowering humans in front of him. He could almost recall the feelings of warmth and familial safety these people had once instilled in him. For a moment he could recall the tender emotions he had developed for his adopted family. He kneeled slowly in front of the hunters, his eyes trained on the matriarch until she raised her fearful gaze.

“For what it’s worth Ellen, I’m not my father—never was, and never will be—now run. Run as far as you can.” He stood and turned away, trying to ignore the worming pain in his heart at the image of fear in their eyes.

“Sam—wait, please” He hovered at the doorway staring at his torn apart car, pieces of the seat thrown onto the ground with Ruby missing. A gentle warm hand rested on his back and he tensed his muscles, waiting for the pain of a knife. “Please Sam— whatever’s happening right now—please don’t go.” He turned to look at Ellen’s smaller frame, fear stilled shadowed her eyes but stubbornness held her still. He reached for her hand slowly and brought it to his lips in a soft kiss before releasing her.

“It’s too late for me Ellen, I’m a monster, have been since the day I walked into your bar. Doesn’t matter what I do, I’ll always be this-- *sigh* -- just this. Don’t follow me, just go.” Ellen blinked and then Sam was gone, the vague smell of sulfur left in his wake. She brought her hand to her lips in a shaky move and closed her eyes, a few tears slowly cascading down her cheeks.

“Mom?” Ellen turned to Jo’s tentative voice, the figure of her daughter and Ash stood out like beacons at night in the midst of her stormy thoughts. She could see her daughter’s resolve harden and Ash’s eyes glinted in the setting sun’s light.

“We’re not gonna listen to that big oaf, right momma Harvell? We gotta bring that boy back.” Ellen nodded at Ash and Jo moved with a frenzied energy, dumping their abandoned dinners and packing they bags.

“Yeah Ash, we’re gonna get our boy. We’re gonna need help though.” Reaching into her back pocket Ellen pulled out her cell and dialed a familiar number, waiting for a friendly voice as she oversaw the activity around her.

“Singer’s salv—“

“Bobby, its Ellen. We got some deep shit comin’ and you’re invited to the party. We’ll be there in a few hours, be ready for 3 of us.”

“Dammit woman, now what have ya got yer’self into?”

“Not gonna go over this over the phone, but—it’s Sam—he’s in somethin’ and he needs our help.”

“Balls—what’d that fool boy do now?” Ellen shook her head and sighed into the phone.

“I don’t rightly know Bobby, but it’s bad and he needs our help. We’ll be there soon.” Bobby grunted before she disconnected the call and took the packed bags from Jo’s hands.

“Go check Sam’s car, maybe there’s somethin’ of use in there. Ash, lock this place up, make sure the salt lines and wards are still good. I don’t know how that demon bitch was able to just walk in here but I don’t like it. Ya’ll got 5 then we’re out.” Not waiting for a response she jogged outside and tossed the bags into the back of the pickup. She leaned against the rusty metal for a moment and closed her eyes. Shoving down the aged grief from her husband’s death was easy, the current rage at the situation tossed in her face, not so much. Once she had her emotions back under control she reached into the truck and honked the horn twice.

As they settled in the cab and drove off, Ellen watched the small cabin disappear behind the trees and issued another silent prayer hoping her family would stay safe.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One small decision can break up reality into a multiple different facets of a whole. One small difference can change the course of everything. Dean makes a different decision on that night at Sonny's farm, he watches his Dad drive away in the Impala with Sam. Watches as he breathes a sigh of relief of finally being free from the Hunters life. But nothing ever stays away in any lifetime. It's been years but a sudden letter pulls Dean back in. Pulls him back into the life he fought to leave and now he has to save his brother, if there's even anything left to save.
> 
> **AU reality based off of the episode Bad Boys 9x07, what would happen if Dean decided to stay?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ya'll... Ok I know this is super late and I'm sorry but I had it all typed, just needed a proofread... then I got in a fight with my laptop and it won. Gone, it was ALL gone and I was just so pissed I couldn't come back to it for awhile. Finally, after my little rant, and cool down, and trying a few other projects first, here is the final chapter of "We've Both Changed".
> 
> I do have the half cocked idea of another multi chapter, but might stick to one offs for a bit, this one got hard to finish as the story ran away from me, I'm not 100% happy with how I'm ending it, but this was always meant to fall back on track to canonish, just provide a fun alternative past if Dean chose to stay rather than return to Sam and John. I hope this ending lives up to the standards ya'll expect of me, as always if you find errors or whatnot let me know!
> 
> I do not own Supernatural or the characters, I just like to play with them.

* * *

Dean wasn’t happy. Scratch that, he was annoyed, tired, and now wet as he stood on the porch of Bobby’s salvage yard. A shot gun in his field of vision, and cold water dripped down his face as he shot the old man a look of annoyance.

“Do you greet all your guests this way or is this the red carpet treatment?” Bobby gave him a brief nod before shrugging an apology and stepping aside.

“Never be too careful, not every day I get a call from a long lost idjit talkin’ bout apocalypse level shit going down. ‘Fraid we got other company that’ll need my help too son. Get in here and let’s see what we can see.” Dean spared a quick glance back around the yard, eyes darting over the familiar pickup truck and he swallowed compulsively as he entered the old man’s home. He could hear quiet talking past the kitchen as he set his duffle on the floor and accepted the worn towel for his face. He took a second to compose himself, wondering if Sam was here as well.

“What’s going on Bobby? What’d we got to worry about?” Bobby waved him off while grabbing a pair of beers from the fridge, Dean accepted his gratefully before following him into the living room, er, office, well—where the books were. Ellen was sitting at a desk currently overflowing with books, Jo was behind her, hands and eyes searching the bookshelves; and Ash was on an old sofa, laptop nestled on his lap. Dean let his eyes scan the three again before looking back at Bobby.

“Where’s Sam?” Ellen flinched at his voice but did not look at him.

“Hello to you to Dean, thought Sam told you to get lost?” Dean ignored her barb in favor of drilling holes into the side of Bobby’s head.

“Bobby—if you remember me then you gotta know who Sam is—“

“Course I know who Sam was you idjit, I helped raise that boy.” He took a long swallow of his beer before crossing over to Ellen, steadily ignoring Dean’s searching eyes. “Whatcha got for me woman?” Ellen flipped to another page on the book in front of her before shaking her head.

“Call me woman again, and I’ll replace all your soap with the really flowery stuff that Jo liked when she first turned 13.”

“Shaddup”. Dean could see a small smile on both of their faces as they continued to stare at the book on the desk. The image in front of him was adorable and any other time Dean probably would have teased the grizzled hunter for having feelings but right now—

“Ellen, where’s Sam?” She sighed deeply before raising her eyes to start at Dean, she looked older now than she did before. Lines of stress and worry creased her forehead and it looked like she was still in the same clothes as the last time he saw her. He stared in confusion as Jo turned and placed a supporting hand on her shoulder and Ash watched over the screen of his computer. Bobby just grunted before taking a long pull off of his beer and walking back towards the kitchen.

“Tell the boy what he wants to know Ellen, it’ll be easier than him findin’ out the hard way”. Ellen threw a flash of annoyance at his retreating form before sighing and looking up at Dean.

“A demon came after you left, a demon Sam knew. She’s twisted his mind and has him wrapped around her little finger. She fed him blood, I can only assume demon blood, and he was just—just gone.” Her eyes misted as she held back tears and she looked away in pain. Jo squeezed her shoulder briefly before speaking.

“The demon—she called Sam ‘My King’, Said Azazel sends his regards. We’re hoping he’s someone we can summon—can get him to get us to Sam.” Dean raised his hands and shook his head violently.

“Wait, wait, wait—he called Sam King? And it was a demon?” At Ellen and Jo’s nod Dean cursed vehemently and drained the bottle of beer in his hand before muttering, “sonofabitch—Ash, you really any good with that computer?” At the indignant snort Dean rolled his eyes before calling Bobby back.

“That angel, Cassie or whatever—he told me some ‘Boy King’ was gonna open a gate to hell—you don’t think—“ Bobby just shrugged before raising his hat to run a hand through his thinning hair.

“Well shit, it’d be too large of a damn fine coincidence if Sam and this Boy King weren’t the same person. But how’s Sam this King to them?” Ash was typing furiously on his laptop, eyes scanning the screen as the others around him debated.

“Where’d your angel friend say this was happening?” Dean shrugged with a scoff.

“Southern Wyoming—super helpful for an all-knowing being.”

“That was God ya idjit, angels were supposed to be benevolent”. Dean made a noncommittal snort as they watched Ash work. After a few more minutes he did a flurry of movement before smiling up at Ellen and Jo.

“I need a raise, and a beer, I’m so good I’m saintly!” Jo rolled her eyes as Ellen huffed impatiently.

“Shut up boy, did you find him?” Twirling the laptop around with a flourish Ash sang “Ta Da! I give you, one Devil’s gate, complete with its own—“ He pauses a moment to hit a key and light up a few markers on the map, the highlighted lines appear to connect and intersect until—“fully functioning iron devil’s trap. Whew—whoever made this was a genius, like full on rocker haircut approved, genius”. Dean grabbed the laptop from Ash’s hands, ignoring his stammering shout as he studied the map in front of him. He looks up at Bobby’s gruff face, thinly veiled hope humming under his skin.

“This has got to be it Bobby, I just know it. We gotta go save Sam.” Bobby snorted and shook his head angrily.

“Save ‘im? Boy that kid is being called the ‘_Boy King’ -- _at this point he’d be something we’d hunt, not save.”

“Robert Singer you stop saying that right now.” Ellen had stood up at some point, eyes blazing in anger and she stalked over to the older man. “That boy is my family, he’s your family for Christ’s sake, he’s not some monster. Now, you’re gonna go get your gun, get in your truck and follow us to save our boy.” Bobby stared at her for a moment, a tense silence growing in the room that made Dean’s skin itch. Finally Bobby sighed and shook his head.

“I know woman, jesus I know. I love that kid too but, you have to be prepared now if he’s gone too far—if he can’t be saved.” Dean relinquished his hold on the laptop to Ash as he stepped away to give the other hunters some space. He let his eyes wander across the bookshelves, ratty titles in various languages stared back at him. Varying degrees of fading making some of the titles hard to make out. In the far corner behind the desk was a picture frame, Dean took a few steps closer and felt his breath catch in his throat. There, staring back at him with a wide dimpled smile was Sam. He couldn’t have been any older than 14 or 15, ratty jeans and a t-shirt hanging off of his thin frame. Bobby stood behind in the picture, John just off to the side, a glower barely concealed behind a small smile. In his hands, Sam held what looked like a diploma, a cheap gold sticker ribbon hanging off one corner.

“He’d just graduated high school that year, John left him with me for 6 months so, so he could finish early before cartin’ that boy away again. He was damn smart, smarter than the rest of us. It was 3 or 4 years later before I finally got to see him again. By then, well, hunter life and all—he wasn’t really the same after that year.” Dean traced a careful finger over the picture as Bobby stood beside him. “What happened Dean, you two were inseparable.” The new nagging feeling of guilt and shame wound its way up his throat and before he could stop himself he let it spill out.

“I was selfish Bobby—got a taste of normal and didn’t want to let it go. I thought—I thought Dad would keep him safe. That’d they would at least visit or somethin’. When I didn’t even get a letter I just thought, Okay fine, they go their separate way and I’ll go mine, at least their together—but—but I was wrong Bobby—God how could I have gotten it so wrong—“ His throat felt hot as he pushed down the urge to cry. He squeezed his eyes shut briefly, trying to stamp down the tidal wave threatening to consume him. “What happened to him Bobby?” He looked over at the older man, the one who stood in as father to him when John wasn’t man enough to take up the mantle. He searched the wrinkled face for answers to questions he wasn’t even sure how to ask, and by the look in Bobby’s eye he didn’t know how to answer.

“I don’t know boy, but let’s go get ‘im and find out.”

* * *

It was dark, well past midnight as their little caravan pulled onto the grassy field just outside the town limits. Dean was opening the trunk of the Impala as Bobby and Ellen made their way over, shot guns already out and ready.

“Ash says this is it, he found somethin’ big. Demonic omens—like a frickin’ tidal wave. Cattle deaths, lightning storms. All over this area accept for right here. That’s gotta mean something, right?” Dean grabs a few bottles of holy water before placing his gun in the waist of his pants.

“It sounds like to me, we’ve found the party. Let’s get in there and let’s find Sam.” They start off down a small path, stepping over the iron railway at their feet before spreading wide to cover more ground. Dean can hear crickets in the night air just under the crunching footfalls of his fellow hunters. He keeps his flashlight low, just barely illuminating the path in front of him without giving away his position. He sees a tall gate just ahead surrounded by trees that reads ‘_Fossil Butte Cemetery’_ Dean can’t help but snort at the irony before waving his light towards Ellen and Jo. By the time they join him, Dean has already inched towards the gate, ears straining to hear any sounds from inside the cemetery. He feels a light tough on his elbow and glances carefully towards Jo. She leans in to whisper against his shoulder,

“I don’t see anyone, maybe this isn’t it?” Dean licks his lips nervously and shakes his head.

“Nu uh, he’s here—I can feel it.” After another moment of quiet Dean’s skin tingles to awareness as a soft sniffling noise disturbs the darkness around them. “Sam?” He feels stupid for calling out, stupid and hopeful. It’s dead silent another second before—

“I told you, just leave Dean—“ The voice is quiet, broken, desperate. Dean can feel his heart clench as he carefully steps past the final row of headstones and see’s Sam. His brother is leaning against a broken pile of rubble, eyes red and glassy. His hands were covered in dirt and bruises and a quick scan of light shows torn up skin on his knuckles. Sam hasn’t turned to face him, eyes dead set ahead of him staring at a large mausoleum just a few paces away. Dean can feel Bobby and Ellen come up behind him and Ellen’s soft hitch in her breath startles Sam slightly and he seems to cave in on himself just a little bit more. Dean feels frozen as he stares at his little brother, heart aching to reach out.

“Sam—honey—what’re you doin’ out here?” Ellen has crouched down, trying to catch his eye but Sam turns away with an angry snarl.

“Don’t, don’t bother Ellen. Why don’t you just use that shot gun you brought? Finish the hunt you’re on.” The bitterness drips from Sam’s voice and Ellen flinches back slightly before hardening her gaze and tossing the shotgun to the side.

“You listen to me boy, I took you in, I gave you shelter and a family when you needed it most. You ain’t no monster Sam. You’re my family, I’m not here to hunt you.” Sam scoffs and raises his gaze until he’s staring right at Ellen and gives her a crooked smile.

“Maybe you should.” His eyes bleeding yellow is the only warning Dean gets before an invisible force pushes them all away and pins them to the ground. He hears Bobby’s grunt of pain and Jo’s shot for her mother. Barely able to raise his head, he watches as Sam stands, back straight and stiff, yellow eyes staring cruelly down at them like bugs ready to be dissected. Dean tries to push against the invisible bonds, his mind almost made up to call for Castiel like the angel requested when he glances at Sam’s hands. His torn, bloody knuckles shaking violently, hands trembling almost like their fighting against themselves.

“S-Sammy? Sammy please—“ Yellow eyes flicker for a second before bright hazel eyes are staring back at him. “Listen to me Sammy—I know, I know I messed up, I left you alone. I get that, and I’m sorry, sorrier than you’ll ever realize; but please—Sammy—please let us help you. Let me help you little brother—“ Sam’s eyes flicker for a moment across Dean’s face and chest until they settle just under his chin. Dean struggles to look down, barely see’s the golden amulet resting against his chest. He looks up again to see Sam’s eyes, bright with tears.

“You kept it—“ Sam’s voice is rough, choked with emotion as Dean nods at him and he feels the invisible binds lessening around him. He sit’s up cautiously resting a hand over the childhood momento.

“Yeah Sammy—course I kept it, nothin’ would ever be able to take this from me.” Dean’s able to stand now, he can feel the other’s shift behind him but he keeps his eyes on Sam. Sam who sways on the spot like he’s fighting against the gravitational pull of the mausoleum behind him. Slowly he raises his hands and takes a step, then another. He watches as Sam’s gaze remains fixed on the pendant around his neck and doesn’t startle until Dean has a warm hand wrapped around the back of his neck, cupping his head.

“I mean it Sammy—nothing would be able to take this away from us.” He closes his eyes a moment, simply feeling the trembling body in front of him.

“You left—D-da—Sir said it was because of me—wa-was it—“ Sam’s breathing was like a staccato tambourine in his chest and Dean laid a steady hand against him to try and smooth out Sam’s breathing.

“Easy Sammy, easy—it’s not like that—I would never leave because of you ok kiddo? I was a kid, and I was stupid—but I’m here now, alright, I’m here and we’ll make everything alright.” Sam clenched his eyes tightly before shaking his head and taking a step back. Dean felt the loss of the physical closeness like a bolt to the chest and he tried to step forward, to follow Sam and keep him from running. An audible groaning metal click froze his movements however and he heard Bobby’s gruff curses behind him.

“It’s too late Dean—I’m sorry—“ Eye’s gazed back at the large mausoleum, at the colt handing from the doors as aged iron workings twisted and spun to unlock the large gates. Ellen briefly turns to Bobby before taking a step back.

“Bobby, what is it?”

“It’s hell.” Sam stumbles back, head clenched between his battered hands as Dean rushes forward to grab the colt from the crypt. He turns to grab Sam when the doors behind him burst open, tossing him a few yards away. He turn quickly onto his back to watch a large black mass erupt from the other side of the doors and shoot outward, the ground under their feet quake and rumble violently and he watches as Sam kneels, screaming in pain.

Ellen is tugging on Jo’s and Ash’s arms now, trying to rush forward towards the open doors.

“C’mon! we gotta shut that gate!” Dean lick his lips before glancing down at the gun in his hands, he goes to tighten his grip but his surprised when it’s yanked from his grasp. He turns quickly before feeling another invisible force pushing him to the side, pinning him against a tombstone.

“Boy’s shouldn’t play with Daddy’s gun”. Dean grunts against the pressure and tries to turn his head to watch Sam who’s started to rise and walk towards him, his own eyes reflecting the pungent yellow glow of the man in front of him. Dean looks back at the arrogant dick and gives a half smirk.

“So—you must be Azazel? I gotta say, you really should invest in some eye drops.” The demon in front of him chuckles before raising a hand to pat Sam’s head condescendingly, Sam’s eye are downcast and even with the yellow tint Dean can tell they are void of emotion. Leftover tracks from his tears slowly drying on his skin.

“I’ll get to you in a minute champ. But I’m proud of you—knew you had it in you.” Dean barely catches the flinch from Sam before Azazel is walking towards him.

“So Dean—I gotta thank you. You see, demons can only influence so much in the people around them. Destiny and free will and all that nonsense. That day you decided to just—walk away,” Azazel smiles before licking his lips, “tell me—have you ever heard the expression, ‘If a deal sounds too good to be true, it probably is?’” Dean tries to ignore him, tries to dampen the rising bile of regret and guilt.

“It was a better shake than your dad ever got, and you never wondered about them? I’m surprised at you.” Azazel turns half away to stare back at Sam before looking back and smiling at Dean. “And now here you are, ready to play knight in shining armor to the brother you abandoned. But tell me Dean—how certain are you that what you see in front of you is 100%, pure, Sam?” Sam doesn’t acknowledge the words out of Azazel’s mouth and Dean briefly glances between the two before Azazel turns away and laughs.

“Thanks a bunch Dean, I knew I kept you alive for some reason. Until now of course, I couldn’t have done all this without your one pitiful moment of selfishness. Thanks again.” Dean hears the hammer of the colt cock back and Dean closes his eyes, bracing for the bullet he expects through his brain. He waits for the sudden pain when a blur of smoke passes between them and Azazel grunts in pain. Opening them in shock, he watches as a faintly translucent image of his father wrestles with Azazel between him and Sam. The force holding him against the tombstone lessens and he see’s blood pouring down Sam’s nose as he grunts with his hands outstretched towards him.

“Dean—“ His eyes dart down to the ground and Dean follows, seeing the slightly grimy metal of the colt shining in the grass in front of him. He glances back up at the struggling figures of John and Azazel and dashes towards the gun in one swift movement. He slides to his knee, grabs the only salvation they have and as Azazel breaks free to turn towards him, he aims, breathes, and fires.


End file.
